


Perfect Pieces

by MissMellifluous



Category: Tokyo Mew Mew
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-06 20:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5429687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMellifluous/pseuds/MissMellifluous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two teams of genetically modified super girls have been created in order to fight strange prehistoric monsters wreaking havoc on the city. But where are the monsters coming from? Which team will unlock the secret? Do the girls have what it takes to be a superhero? And what is this about a ninth mew mew?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Leighanne

September 30th, 5:02 AM-

Like clockwork, the shrill noise of an impatient whine sounded from beside the bed. A long snout tipped with a wet black nose began to scoot its way under the blonde girl’s hand which hung limp off the side of the mattress. Slowly she stretched out her long, thin fingers, finding the pup’s cheek and giving him a good scratching underneath the chin. Despite the wag of his tail the dog was still not satisfied, and his whining persisted until the girl sat up, removing her hand to rub the sleep out of her eyes. The dog’s tail wagging became more enthusiastic and the collie hopped up, putting his big, dirty forepaws up on the bed.

“Hey! Abbot, shoo,” Leighanne prodded sleepily, pushing the dog back off her handmade quilt and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, lowering her bare feet to the chilly hardwood floor. The crisp autumn air had begun to creep its way across the town, which while a welcome respite from the sweltering summer humidity only made getting up and doing the morning chores that much harder. It didn’t help that the creaky old farm house didn’t have sufficient central heating, only a few ancient radiators that had definitely seen better days and clanged angrily in protest at having been turned on.

Though she was a comically petite girl, the old stairs creaked under her weight as Leighanne made her way down the rickety staircase, Abbot thundering past her and prancing in excited circles at the bottom as he waited for the young girl to reach him. A pair of dirty old converse, a pair of well worn work shoes, and a pair of tiny boots sat in a line by the back door. Judging by what remained and what was missing, her parents were awake, but Logan and Lucas were still in bed. Figures. Pulling on her muddy boots and slipping her coat off the hanger, Leighanne stepped out into the crisp morning air and let out a stifled yawn. Time to feed the animals, with Abbot following closely on her heels to visit his favorite hooved friends.

First came the pigs. As soon as they heard the sound of their food being poured the chubby pink animals came barreling towards their trough, ears flopping as they ran and contented squeals punctuating each swine’s arrival. They seemed to be doing well enough this morning, soft snorts continuing between bites though slightly stifled. 

With a small smile, Leighanne headed to the horse stalls to give them their feed next. At the sound of the girl tugging the door open, Abbot brought his attention away from the pigs and trotted over as well. Inside there were three horses, two mares and a stallion. One of the mares, a rusty red color with a light blonde mane, poked her head over the door to her stable at the sound. As per usual, Leighanne gave special attention to her own pride and joy, giving the red coated beauty, Dixie, a thorough petting before feeding her, and then the other horses in quick succession.

Last came the goats. Even this early in the morning the kids were being rambunctious. This was terrific news to Abbot, who seemed to want nothing more than to play, the big fluffy collie leaping in circles around his little horned companions. Leighanne shooed him away once again, making sure they got fed and sitting down to give the mother a quick milking before crossing briskly across the land and back into the relative warmth of the house.

Her older brother Logan sat slumped over with his face in his hands at the kitchen table, his twin brother filling up Abbot’s dish which the dog thanked him for with a lick of his fingers.

“You two are useless!” Leighanne griped, shrugging off her coat and plopping down onto the floor to strong arm her boots off her feet. “You never help out with anything around here.”

“Hey, I fed your dog, didn’t I?” Lucas retorted defensively, gesturing towards the fluffy, ravenous mutt with his long snout buried in his food bowl. 

Leighanne gave her green eyes an exasperated roll. “Oh yeah, sure. That’s like, the easiest job,” she scolded. Shouldn’t the older brothers be the ones doing more of the hard work? She was just a dainty little lady, after all. “And he’s not my dog, he’s our dog,” she added, sticking her tongue out at Lucas as she crossed back to the stairs to shower and dress herself for the day.

September 30th, 6:13 AM-

By the time she finished showering and putting on her school uniform, a blue plaid skirt and plain black Mary Janes, Lucas had gone, but Logan remained in the same place she had left him. Figures, she thought, reaching up to pull her thin blonde hair into a pair of pigtails. Logan was undoubtedly the black sheep in the family, tending to stay out late and get himself into trouble only to regret it the next morning. Rifling through the cupboards and keeping a critical eye on her brother, she produced a box of Lucky Charms and a bowl, placing both on the kitchen table a little too loudly in an attempt to get his attention. The effort proved futile, and the young girl gave her older brother the best stink eye she could muster as she poured herself a bowl of rainbow marshmallow goodness.

“I heard you came back late last night,” she remarked casually, pouring some milk over her sugary breakfast and beginning the task of separating the cereal pieces from the sweet marshmallowy treats interspersed. Her brother responded with a grunt, and kept his face hidden in the crook of his elbow so that all Leighanne could see was the top of his dark haired head.

“I thought you were looking for a day job, whatever happened to that? I doubt mom and dad are gonna keep funding your habits,” she remarked once her cereal bowl was properly divided. He grunted again, this time reaching out his arm to move the cereal box between the two of them. So he didn’t feel like talking this morning. Leighanne ate her cereal pieces in relative silence, gazing at the box between herself and her brother and briefly entertaining the notion that she may be part leprechaun. At only 5' tall and not getting any taller, it seemed as reasonable an explanation as any. Once she had a bowl of only marshmallows left, she loaded successive spoonfuls of the sugary bliss and ate them in bites big enough that it almost made her teeth hurt.

Satisfied that she had sufficiently wrung out as much familial interaction as she could with her brother, Leighanne stood and washed out her bowl in the sink, calling out a chipper ‘goodbye’ as she trotted out towards the shed and picking up her school things from beside the door as she left. Abbot awaited her just beyond the doorway, and she gave the pup a quick kiss on the head and a scratch deep into the thick scruff around his neck before straddling her bike, adjusting her bag and balancing her clarinet case carefully. Like some kind of circus act she tested out her balance situation cautiously for a moment before becoming more sure footed and peddling off towards school.

Willowcrest High School was a bit of a ways away, but the bike ride to and from school proved to be a therapeutic stint of alone time. That, and she had plenty of time to kill given how early she got up to do her chores around the house. Besides, she figured the exercise was good for her little bird legs that were a prime source of self-consciousness in the young teen. 

Mama always said there was no shame in being little, but being reminded of it on such a frequent basis didn’t help matters. Amongst her peers, the most notable of her features was her diminutive stature, and twig like build. Despite how obvious it was that she was by far the smallest in her class, each person who pointed it out spoke as though they were the first to notice and let her know. Each time, Leighanne forced a smile like it was news to her, and let them go on with their day as though they had made a witty observation.

She huffed and puffed as she neared the top of a large incline, her muscles straining to keep the bike moving forward. A little extra muscle mass from these rigorous bike rides would help her look more sturdy, she figured. Despite having all the determination in the world, the bike began to wobble and Leighanne quickly put her feet down before she toppled over completely. Crestfallen, the girl walked her bike to the top of the hill before hopping back on. School had started a few weeks ago, and she still had yet to make it to the top of the hill without walking.

In the past she had contemplated taking up a sport; her best friend Talia had always insisted she join cheerleading with her, but that seemed a little too adventurous for someone like Leighanne. She preferred to remain on solid ground, and right side up. Not only that, but cheerleading practice always ran at the same time as marching band practice, her one true love. That worked as her foolproof excuse every time the topic came up, but truth be told the band really was where her heart lie anyhow. Making music made Leighanne’s heart soar, and being in the band was substantially less flashy than being a cheerleader. She loved the tight-knit group and the focus on the ensemble, rather than any one individual. Leighanne felt most comfortable when she could blend in, and in the band she could do just that. From up in the stadium seats, everyone looked tiny. She simply didn’t fancy herself a standout kind of girl.

September 30th, 7:30 AM-

It was a completely different story when it came to school. Academia had always been something that came easily to the girl; her aptitude led her to skipping the third grade, which didn’t do any favors when it came to her size relative to her peers. Middle school, a notoriously dreadful time for any young adult, didn’t pose much of a threat to the bright young woman, leaving her plenty of time to dedicate to the emotional woes that came along with early teenage years. 

At fourteen she was now in her first year of high school, which she planned to complete in record time. Her academic advisors assured her that if she kept up with the workload graduating as valedictorian would be no problem, and as long as she continued to apply herself through college she would graduate with any degree she wanted to pursue by the time she was twenty. Admittedly, the pressure affected the girl more than she let on, but her family could use all the help they could get, and that was before the cost of college tuition. With Lucas taking online courses the financial strain already made itself visible, even without Logan bumming money off the family to feed a multitude of habits. And here she was, worrying over student loans at the ripe young age of fourteen.

Her day started off with history, which just so happened to be her favorite subject. English didn’t prove too stressful, and the sciences were interesting. She took French as a second language course, which she found engaging, and though she thought math to be a little bit dry, she appreciated its straightforward nature so she didn’t mind it too much. Gym could be frustrating, but she forced herself to work hard despite the asinine drills they often had to complete. 

Her cooking class however, proved damn near impossible for Leighanne to wrap her head around. Nothing she attempted to make ever quite turned out as it should have, and that was a best case scenario. The worst case scenario involved the entire school evacuating due to the smoke billowing out of her attempt at culinary achievement. Though all the students got to eat their creations after cooking them, Leighanne could rarely stomach more than a single bite of whatever she whipped up. Luckily, lunch was right after.

September 30th, 12:30 PM-

“Hey girlie! How was your morning?!”

The chipper greeting welcomed Leighanne into the cafeteria as a dark auburn haired girl waved her over. Talia Maybury had been Leighanne’s best friend since the two were in fourth grade, and though they had grown up to be vastly different people the strength of their friendship hardly faltered. Walking through the lunch line Leighanne grabbed a cheese pizza and an apple, while Talia took a generous helping of french fries and three cookies to serve as her meal. 

The pair always ate lunch together in the corner of the cafeteria by the windows, warm sunshine filtering in through the panes. Evidently today was someone’s birthday, as Leighanne jumped slightly at the sudden chorus of song that erupted from one of the tables in the middle of the cafeteria. The middle tables housed the athletic girls, and a quick look over her shoulder confirmed they were the ones singing terribly off key but enthusiastically. 

In the middle of the gaggle of singing jocks stood Chumani Havener looking thoroughly embarrassed and hushing everyone around her to no avail. Everyone knew Chumani, like some kind of high school celebrity. Leighanne knew she played multiple sports, though she could never remember which, and just assumed the friendly jock could manage anything thrown at her given she had won the school more trophies than any other individual.

Peeling her eyes away from the spectacle, Leighanne had only taken a single bit of her pizza when Talia leaned across the table with a shifty gaze over in the chorus’ direction. Leighanne frowned slightly as she chewed, taking note that her friend had her gossip face on.

“I heard Chumani is having a big birthday party this weekend,” she informed with hushed excitement, “I heard her parents are loaded, and they’re paying for her and all her friends to go skydiving, how awesome is that?”

Leighanne smiled warily, looking back over to the star athlete who was shielding herself from a gaggle of friends trying to smother her with hugs. She had nice arms, very defined. All of her looked strong, sturdy. Hopefully by the end of the school year the culmination of all her bike rides up that damn hill would leave her having a body that looked something like that, but mini.

“I talk to her all the time, you know,” Talia said with a smug grin, throwing her curly red hair back over her shoulder. “She has practice at the same time I have cheer, and we talk at the water fountain like, every day.”

“Wow, that’s pretty cool,” Leighanne encouraged though with minimal enthusiasm, smiling slightly. “She’s in my math class, but we don’t ever really talk.” Truth be told, the only time that had ever spoken was once when they had been placed in a group together to work on a problem set. She had been incredibly nice, but Leighanne couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated by her, as though her reputation made her almost unapproachable.

“Do you think she is gonna ask me to come to her birthday party?” Talia asked, looking genuinely concerned. By the look on her face not being asked to this party just might destroy her. Talia had always been exceptionally self-conscious about her social reputation, not that Leighanne minded much. It was kind of endearing, in a way. Besides, she was a kind girl, so it was forgivable. That’s why Leighanne smiled more genuinely this time, wrinkling the corners of her green eyes.

“I’m sure she will.”

September 30th, 1:15 PM-

After lunch, Leighanne bid Talia goodbye and skipped off down the tiled halls towards the band room. There was something comfortably familial about the room that had become her home away from home, and that alone made the class one of her favorites. Before school had even started she spent a good chunk of time in the room for band camp, meeting new people and finding her place in this new school. 

Leighanne took her seat next to the section leader for the rest of the clarinets, a strawberry blonde girl with cold blue eyes and a look of permanent dissatisfaction on her pale chubby face. That look of dissatisfaction seemed to intensify whenever Leighanne showed up, not that she let it phase her cheery attitude.

“Hey Nixie!” she chirped brightly, scooting up beside her with her clarinet in hand. The elder girl returned her greeting with a tight-lipped smile. Ever dissatisfied. Leighanne supposed that never being satisfied was one of the things that led her to being such a gifted clarinet player. She knew Nixie excelled in school as well, the two of them were often called for the same academic achievement awards. Nixie never appeared hostile or overtly competitive with Leighanne, but she never seemed particularly happy about it either. They were like friendly rivals, Leighanne mused as they began to play. Even if one party was substantially more friendly than the other.

September 30th, 2:30 PM-

The tolling of the school bell signaled the time for another speedy bike ride, and another valuable chunk of alone time. Not much passed through her mind today, besides wondering if Talia really would be invited to Chumani’s party. If so, that’d be pretty neat. Leighanne was uncertain she’d have the guts to go skydiving for the same reasons that she was uncertain about doing cheerleading. Hurtling through the air seemed like something better suited for superheroes and thrill junkies, and Leighanne was neither of those things. 

Much to her surprise, as she wheeled down the hill and coasted the rest of the way to her house, she found Logan already beginning to clean the stalls. Leighanne smiled fondly at the sight; clearly her pep talk that morning had done something. She hopped off her bike and set her backpack down inside, propping her clarinet case up against the bag for safe keeping. Taking the stairs two at a time she changed out of her uniform and into a t-shirt and a pair of shorts before running back down the stairs to get started on the afternoon’s chores. The two spent some time cleaning the stalls together, though Logan remained about as talkative as he had been that morning. Leighanne didn’t mind, the repetitive motions freed up her mind to work on other things, such as formulating the thesis for her history project.

Once afternoon chores were finished, only a brief window of time remained for her to complete the day’s homework, so she grew accustomed to working quickly. Leighanne was never the type to sit down and focus all her attention on her homework, so instead she followed the usual motions. Getting a small snack, curling up in the living room in the cozy corner of the couch and flipping on the television for background noise as she wrote, calculated, and theorized away at the day’s homework. She worked at blistering speeds, gathering up all her papers to put back in her bag by the time four o’clock rolled around. Bidding Logan, the only family member present in the house, goodbye, Leighanne flew back out the door and onto her bike. This time, her destination was the town recreation center where marching band practice was held.

September 30th, 4:30 PM-

Though band class won the title of Leighanne’s favorite class, marching band practice won the honorable distinction as her favorite time of the day altogether. Something about belonging to a group of people working towards a common cause made her feel positively giddy, and it was rare to see her in anything less than soaring spirits once practice rolled around. Sure, any group of teenagers who spent prolonged time together would have their drama every once in a while, but Leighanne’s chipper disposition acted like a sort of drama shield. That, and a little bit of willful ignorance to the darker goings on. 

As such, she didn’t notice the bickering amongst the flutists as they paused for a water break, instead taking a dare from one of the trumpets to chug as much water as she could in one gulp, despite the activity being ill advised by Nixie. Still, despite her protests the section leader did nothing to stop the younger girl from giving in to the chants of “chug, chug, chug!”, craning her head back and bringing her gigantic bottle to her lips. She didn’t last long before giving up, a healthy splash of water running down the front of her tee. 

Off in the distance sounded the murmurs of deep rumbling, and Leighanne craned her head to the sky in an attempt to spot any thunder clouds rolling in, but saw nothing but vast empty sky turning darker as dusk approached.

Then the ground began to shake.

A few of the students yelped as everything around them began to rattle violently, worse than anything she could have imagined an earthquake to be. 

“Everyone! Please move to the center of the field!” the director instructed, concern evident in his voice as he and the students struggled to even walk as the ground shifted beneath their feet. Everyone scrambled to get out away from the edges of the small football stadium, a few of the stadium lights bursting and groaning as though threatening to fall over.

Leighanne stumbled, falling to the ground with a hard thud and crawling the rest of her way to the group on her hands and knees. Plopping down beside her section leader, she pulled her legs up to her chest, looking about wide eyed. Something about this earthquake seemed unusual, and its strength only increased as the group sat huddled together. The stadium lights groaned again, and in a moment of panic Leighanne grabbed Nixie’s hand and held her knees even closer to her chest.

Much to her surprise, Nixie squeezed her hand back.


	2. Ainsley

September 30th, 8:00 AM-

Crunches. 20 reps.  
Reverse crunches. 20 reps.  
Double crunches. 20 reps.  
Bicycle crunches. 20 reps.  
Water.  
Plank. 60 seconds.  
Push ups. 30 reps.  
Water.  
Stretch.

Rolling her neck with a satisfying crack as her vertebrae readjusted, Ainsley opened the door to her bedroom and shuffled across the cheap carpet towards the kitchen wearing a sweaty old tee she had gotten for free with some random company name strewn across the front. The shirt was a little bit too small for the young woman who stood a solid six feet tall, but hey, it was free. Reaching the kitchen she found her roommate Chauncey already awake, dressed for the day, and making omelets. Without a word of greeting to the man she opened up the fridge, rifling around for the orange juice while Chauncey looked over at her with a smirk.

“You sounded like you were struggling a bit in there. Why don’t you stop fooling around on your girly little team and just join the football team already! Learn how to play a real sport,” he teased, earning him a nasty glare from the freckled girl’s dark eyes. “I mean it’s not like anyone would know you’re not one of the guys!” This comment received a sharp inhale in protest as Ainsley gripped the carton of juice more tightly, ready to douse him with citrus.

“I couldn’t, because I don’t care how much padding you all need I’d still have to hold back from breaking everyone in a scrimmage,” she retorted, punching him square in the shoulder and taking the pan from his hand to dump the omelet onto her plate.

He chuckled quickly to himself, rubbing a hand across his stubbly chin. “Have I struck a nerve? I didn’t mean to pull on your pigtails there, Revvie.” 

She shot him another look of utter malice. “I have never worn pigtails in my life,” she said flatly as she bumped the silverware drawer shut with her hip, striding off and taking her food back into her bedroom to get ready. In one smooth motion she pulled the slightly too small t-shirt over her head and tossed it into the hamper, sitting down with her plate at her desk and shoveling the food into her mouth quickly chased by a gulp of orange juice.

Crossing to her closet, Ainsley caught sight of her reflection in the full length mirror that hung in the corner of her room, giving pause to look over what she saw. Her long, pale blonde hair had begun to poke out from the braid she had put it in before working out, and a few pieces stuck to her forehead with sweat. Standing in only a sports bra and gym shorts let her examine her long, tan arms, tight stomach, and toned legs. Her eyes lingered a moment longer on her chest, and with her arms she pressed her breasts together experimentally. The cleavage that formed brought a satisfactory smile to her lips. Looking just like one of the guys? I think not.

Reemerging in sweatpants and a much more suitable tee, Ainsley found her roommate lying on the couch with an omelet of his own, watching cartoons. With a roll of her eyes she downed the rest of her orange juice and placed her dishes in the sink to be washed later.

“So you going to health and performance today or what?” she questioned, as the man didn’t look as though he intended to get up. The burly man let out a high pitched whine and he looked up at Ainsley with his best attempt at puppy dog eyes, his lower lip jutting out and wibbling comically.

“I don’t know Revvie, I just woke up feeling so nauseous. What if I threw up, and in health no less! Everyone would make fun of me. Won’t you go for me and let me see your notes tonight once you’re home?” he requested, dropping the puppy dog act and instead smiling and trying his darndest to be charming. Ainsley could only roll her eyes once more.

“You are so full of shit,” she scolded, hitting him in the face with a throw pillow before grabbing her things. “You’re gonna do my dishes then, since you’re gonna be home all day.”

“Wait wha-“

She shut the door with a loud bang before he had enough time to finish.

September 30th, 9:15 AM-

At least with Chauncey playing hookie leaving Ainsley to fly solo today, she would actually be able to pay attention and take something that resembled notes. She wasn’t positive that boy could focus on anything for more than five minutes unless it had to do with sports, beer, or women. He was a good guy, if a little simple-minded.

Not that Ainsley ever considered herself much of a scholar either. Regardless of how interested she may have been in the material, sitting in a small uncomfortable chair with an somehow even smaller impractical desk, she would inevitably grow restless. That restlessness would quickly translate itself to rhythmic tapping of her fingers on her desk, or the vigorous bouncing of her legs, both of which drew irritated stares her way. Someone probably would have said something about it, were it not for her rather intimidating presence. They didn’t bother her much, as both the stares and the lecture would inevitably fade into background noise as her engagement waned auto pilot kicked in, leaving her mind free to drift aimlessly.

September 30th, 12:30 PM-

Ainsley was a hungry girl, so lunch time often proved to be one of the highlights of the day, though it frequently doubled as homework time. The dining hall at Northwright University left a little to be desired, but Ainsley had never been a picky eater, and the buffet style was perfect for a ravenous athlete such as herself. As soon as she walked in she scooped up a tray and two plates, ready to fill them with starches, meats, and perhaps a little sprinkling of greenery for good measure.

The tow-headed girl made a beeline for her usual spot, taking a seat in the comfy padded bench and setting down her tray of goodies. The table stood tucked in a back corner, a little ways away from all the bustle of the good lines and sheltered from potential unwanted conversation. Ainsley didn’t consider herself particularly antisocial, but she certainly liked to know when to be expecting conversation, and enjoyed a moment of solitude when she wasn’t. Something about running into teammates outside of practice made her tense. In addition to having little time to spare in the evenings, wanting to appear busy acted as another prime reason that she took out her papers and textbooks, laying them out before her during the lunch break.

With her fingers drumming against the table at a mile a minute, Ainsley attempted to figure out something that resembled an argument for her paper, though the task felt futile. She tensed as her dark eyes caught sight of someone approaching the table in her peripherals. Mustering up all the pep she had for the day, she looked up from her work and managed a tiny smile at the newcomer.

“Hey there, Ainsley!” the boy quipped, “Mind if I sit here?” She scarcely had time to respond when he set his tray down on the table with a clumsy clatter.

“Hey, Phil.”

On occasion, this physiology classmate of hers joined her solitary table, effectively spiking the average cheerfulness of the area. Phillip Woodward was a bit of a sorry looking fellow, spindly, pasty, and fragile looking with unruly red curls and posture so poor it seemed as though he made the climb down from his bell tower every morning to attend class. The posture did nothing for his short stature either, though admittedly most seemed dwarfed next to Ainsley who towered over a good portion of the student body. The things Phil had going for him were his boundless cheerfulness, sunny and outgoing demeanor, no sense of shame or self-consciousness, and some incredible academic prowess. 

“Working on that physiology paper?” he inquired, looking particularly docile as he delicately handled his burrito, cutting it into small, manageable pieces as Ainsley gawked in dismay.

“Y-yeah,” she managed in reply once she had gotten over the atrocity of cutting a burrito, downing her glass of milk quickly. “I suppose yours is already finished?”

He shook his head vigorously, sending his curls bouncing to and fro. “Oh my goodness, no!” He took a pause to look down at his plate, finally satisfied with the small pieces of what was once a respectable burrito and beginning to pop them into his mouth one by one. “I just have a rough outline done,” he assured her, “Maybe we can work on it later tonight?” he continued hopefully. Ainsley faltered, looking down in mild embarrassment at her mindless scribbles for a second before looking back up at her peer with a hesitant and slightly pained smile.

“Sure, I mean I don’t see why not. I live in the university apartments, I can come back from the gym a little early tonight, maybe at around 6? We can grab takeout or something and study,” she decided, shuffling her papers into a slightly neater pile and shoving them back into her bag.

“That sounds great! I can’t wait,” he chirped earnestly. “I’ve been thinking about capitalizing on the gym as well! Might as well use it if my tuition pays for it, right?” he laughed, popping in another bite. He’d definitely need a spotter if he planned on lifting. Maybe that could be her way of repaying him for helping her out with school work. The mental image of the boy lifting weights brought a genuine smile to Ainsley’s lips.

“That’d be quite a sight.”

September 30th, 1:30 PM-

Phillip took his sweet time eating his tiny pieces of burrito, so Ainsley was forced to give him an early goodbye and head out for the buses while he continued to work on making at least a dent in the contents of his plate. Work beckoned, and she reluctantly answered the call. The job didn’t even come close to her actual calling, even at a sporting goods store her patience wore thin quickly with customers. Whether they didn’t know what they wanted, or they wanted something that didn’t exist, either way it typically ended up with Ainsley referring them to a coworker and going to the back to fume and decompress for a little while. Customer service was not her forte.

Lucy Garreau however, had the patience of a saint. One of Ainsley’s teammates and captain of the squad, Lucy had a motherly desire to help people and vast reservoirs of patience for any lost soul who mistook golfing gloves for weight lifting gloves. Only in her absence would their manager ever dare to put Ainsley out on the floor to help customers. Ordinarily she spent her days restocking shelves and helping people, customers or otherwise, carry any heavy equipment.

Much to her dismay upon arriving at work, Ainsley discovered that Lucy was leaving an hour early for a doctors appointment, leaving her to hold down the fort. At midday on a weekday the store would remain fairly barren, but just as she began to get her hopes up that no one would come in, a soft tinkling of a bell signaled the opening of the front door. A girl with her long dark hair slicked back into a tight ponytail entered the store, smiling cheerfully as she caught Ainsley’s eye before making her way through the shelves.

As discretely as she could, Ainsley sized up the girl who flitted between the racks. Sturdy legs and spandex shorts, that seemed to indicate a volleyball player. Then again, her arms and shoulders were pretty defined, maybe a softball player? Neither appeared correct as the girl finally arrived at the swimming section of the store, and began rifling through he training suits. Ainsley prayed the girl already knew what she wanted, but the amount of time she loitered at the rack suggested otherwise. Taking a deep, steading, calming breath, the blonde meandered through the racks until she reached the indecisive customer.

“Can I help you find anything?” she inquired with scripted cheeriness. The swimmer looked up from the pink patterned suit in her hands slightly surprised, but her eyes seemed kind as they squinted with the smile pulling across her thin lips.

“Oh, no. I’m good thanks…Just trying to decide on a new training suit is all. Mine’s getting a little old,” she responded, a strange look of sadness flickering across her face as she let go of the one in her hands and grabbed a black one next to it. “Any suggestions?”

Ainsley frowned, averting her eyes. She hated that question. It didn’t feel right to make recommendations on equipment and sportswear she’d never used herself. Being that she had only ever played rugby, there was little of use she could say about the variety of swimsuits they carried.

“Well…I think these over here are pretty popular,” she offered hesitantly, gesturing towards the black suits, “but black is kind of plain. I think the colored ones are good if you wanted to stand out.”

An uncomfortably long pause followed as the customer looked at the two suits without making a move for either. “Does the pink look good on me?” she asked, pulling the pink patterned suit back off the rack and holding it up to her tan skin. This question made Ainsley cough uncomfortably, flustered even further, and rather than imagining the customer in a swimsuit she simply pointed behind her.

“There’s a mirror over there, feel free to go take a look. I’ll be at the register when you’re ready,” she replied quickly, turning on her heel and walking briskly over to the counter. If there was one thing Ainsley was good at, it was rugby. But if there was a second thing, it was avoiding conversations.

September 30th, 4:30 PM-

Thankfully, the swimmer didn’t ask any more questions, eventually striding up to the register with the pink suit in hand. After she left no other customers came through the door that needed Ainsley’s attention, much to her relief. The moment her shift ended she was out the door and headed down the street for the town recreation center for that day’s workout. Monroe was a fairly small town, and the little university shared its gym facilities with the populace at large so no one had to drive the next town over for a public pool or workout space. The arrangement seemed to work out well for the general public, though it looked to Ainsley that it hurt the university students. She supposed that was what she got for going to such a tiny school in a town no one had ever heard of, but a full ride athletic scholarship to a place that fit her father’s strict criterion was hard to pass up.

That wasn’t to say the facilities were bad. On the contrary, with funding from both the town and the school, the premises were actually quite nice, and frequently updated with newer, better equipment. There were pools, basketball courts, volleyball courts, wall ball courts, an indoor turf field, a small outdoor football stadium, and weights for just about anything you could want. Not only that, but the top floor was home to a number of rooms where various classes were taught, anything from dance to pottery.

Not that Ainsley ever bothered with those. She wasn’t one for taking any more classes than she had to. Something about being required to attend and having someone else tell her what to do seemed to suck the fun right out of things. Using the nice equipment was the only reason she went to the actual gym, rather than the tiny joke of a gym in her apartment complex. She couldn’t even remember the last time she went swimming, and Ainsley was pretty sure that her greatest artistic achievements were the endless loops and swirls that she doodled in notebooks to help pass the time during lecture.

That was why, just as with any other day, she strode past all the classrooms without a second glance and trotted down the stairs to the weight room. It didn’t take long for sweat to begin to bead on her forehead, and drip down the back of her neck. She tended to push herself a little further than she probably should have by herself, but that was the only way she saw to get stronger, faster. Besides, she didn’t see going to the gym as a social event.

Standing to rerack the dumbbells she had been using, an audible clang sounded as each was placed back in its proper spot. For some odd reason however, the clanging of metal on metal didn’t stop once she pulled her hands away. At first, she didn’t think much of it and looked around the sweat stenched room to find a source of the sound. Upon finding nothing, and the sound persisting a few good moments longer than it should have, she became concerned. 

The noise became progressively louder, and joining in the rattling noise came a deep grumbling from beneath them. The other occupants of the weight room were beginning to panic, quick, nervous murmurs spreading through the room like wildfire as a few patrons ran from the room while others simply backed up against the walls.

A groan signaled the tipping of the weight rack before her, and instinctively Ainsley reached out to catch it along with a man who stood beside her. Though saving herself from the falling rack, the sudden change in momentum caused a few of the dumbbells to fall from their place, a thirty pound weight landing squarely on top of Ainsley’s right foot.

Instantly her eyes began to water as she and the man beside her pushed the rack back upright, and she rolled the weight off her throbbing foot. The stranger beside her wrapped her arm over his shoulders for support, hurriedly helping her along to the wall like the others. Dropping to the floor as the ground became increasingly unsteady, Ainsley cursed like a sailor and clutched her knee to her chest. As tightly as she could she grit her teeth and lifted her foot from the floor, attempting to ease off her sneaker. The task proved fruitless, and the sight of blood soaking through her white shoe made her feel inexplicably queasy.

She couldn’t managed to say a word to any of the concerned onlookers.  
Her vision clouded.  
Her head spun.  
She slumped back against the wall.


	3. Liselotte

September 30th, 5:45 AM-

Every morning, Liselotte got up deceptively early. One might get the false impression that the girl was any semblance of a morning person when in fact that could not be further from the truth. The only thing that could motivate the ashy haired girl to do much of anything was the promise of good food, so it was worth getting up in a timely manner just to start the day off with a nice breakfast. Slipping out of bed, she scratched her backside rather uncouthly, and mumbled unintelligibly as she shuffled across the room to pull on her school uniform. 

Rather than the more standard options of a skirt or a dress, Liselotte opted for a hemmed pair of the school’s blue plaid boy’s shorts, a white button up with a blue tie, and a cozy grey sweater over top. The self proclaimed rebel often disregarded what most would deem a lady like position when sitting that made skirts somewhat problematic. That, and wearing a piece of the boy’s uniform somehow cemented her rebel status in her mind.

Pulling on her socks she snagged her dark tinted glasses off her nightstand and shuffled out of her room and into the kitchen. The soft clink of a mug on the kitchen table brought her attention to her mother, though neither said anything in greeting. Surely by now she knew better than to greet her daughter in the morning before she had even made breakfast. Liselotte did not become vocal until at least 7:45 at the earliest, which had the peers in her first period class convinced that she was both blind and mute.

Of course, a good meal started things off in the right direction. Today’s selection was scrambled eggs and french toast with microwave bacon. Some part of the porcelain skinned girl cringed at the idea that she would cook anything in a microwave, but she didn’t much care for cooking things that spattered while in her school uniform.

The soft patter of the dog door swinging signaled a new arrival, followed by the click click click of her german shepherd’s claws on the linoleum floor. The curious pooch came up beside her cautiously, as if to sneak up on the little chef, and slowly lifted his nose over the edge of the counter to get a better sniff of whatever it was that was cooking on the stovetop. Quickly Liselotte took notice of the brush of his snout against her arm, and she bumped him away with her hip, reprimanding him with a simple, “No nose, Fritz.” Her mother quietly laughed to herself. Liselotte was much more likely to talk to her dog sooner than she would to anyone else. The nice thing about Fritz was he didn’t talk back.

Once everything was finished she loaded up her plate and took a seat at the table across from her mother. The mug clinked against the table once again.

“It smells good.”

Liselotte responded to the compliment with a tight-lipped smile before shoveling he freshly cooked and piping hot contents of the plate into her mouth in giant bites, a few stray pieces of egg tumbling down into her sweater.

“Do you have all your things in your bag and ready for school? Her mother spoke up again, Liselotte nodding with an exasperated sigh. Despite what her mother thought, she wasn’t completely irresponsible.

September 30th, 7:30 AM-

People at school were generally of the same opinion as her mother, due to her frequent napping during class, and forgetfulness when it came to homework. In her first class of the day, a group project was announced to be turned in the following week. The poor souls placed with Liselotte may have tried to hide their disappointment, but she could certainly hear it in their voices as they discussed who would do what. Not only was she the kid they all dreaded working with, she was also the kid they dreaded upsetting. Not that it proved very difficult to get on Liselotte’s bad side, so it was frequently an earnest mistake.

When her leg started shaking as the group talked, a few students tensed. It was no secret that Liselotte had a temper, and wasn’t shy about sharing her feelings. It was even rumored that her guide dog Fritz was one a police dog, while others claimed they heard he used to be a fighting dog, despite the docility with which he sat beside his handler during class. Even her dog’s reputation preceded him, tainted by Liselotte’s lifelong legacy of aggression. 

In elementary school when she was a mere twelve years old the rambunctious girl got herself suspended from school for pushing one of her classmates down the stairs. Her mother insisted it was an accident, though Liselotte made that claim hard to substantiate with her bitter remarks of how the kid deserved it. After all, he had insulted the integrity of the honors choir. They moved shortly thereafter, but much to her dismay six years later the incident remained on her school record.

All the social blemishes wouldn’t have mattered as much if she kept good grades, but unfortunately Liselotte didn’t exactly flourish at school either. She did what she had to in order to get by and graduate, a D for diploma student. When it came to getting out of Willowcrest, she preferred sooner rather than later. Being valedictorian, or even getting any kind of academic recognition wasn’t important; the only thing that mattered was graduating.

Of course, even once she got out she highly doubted her overbearing mother would ever let her get too far. After some very desperate persuasion the rebel without a cause submitted a college application to the university in town so she could stay nice and smothered. With her mom finally satisfied however, a few more applications to far away schools may have also snuck into the mix. The reach of her ambitions in life extended well beyond Monroe’s city limits.

As the bell rang and the class headed for the door, the crowds in the hallway parted for Liselotte as she trudged down the hall with Fritz to her next class, her favorite class, the only class she particularly excelled in. Unsurprisingly, it was a cooking class. There was something about being able to produce of a work of art she could actually enjoy that thrilled her. The smell, the taste, the texture, she could enjoy them all just as wholly as anyone else could.

Over the years Liselotte developed a rather mature culinary taste, but even the simple dishes they made in her cooking class satisfied the overwhelming desire to create. That is, when one of her classmates wasn’t lighting her food on fire and causing the whole school to have an impromptu fire drill. In a meek, squeaky voice she always apologized profusely for it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t annoying as hell. Especially after the third time.

September 30th, 12:30 PM-

Even worse than Leighanne’s burned excuse for cooking was the cafeteria’s daily servings of undefinable substances. As such, Liselotte packed her own lunch daily and ate outside so Fritz could do his business and so she could get away from the loud swells of chatter and unpleasant odors inside. Nicholas Davidson: School Diva usually joined her for lunch, as he was one of the elite few capable of putting up with the tomboy’s moodiness. The boy was charming enough with a suave voice that sounded downright angelic when he sang, but he tended to dwell and became a bit of a drama king. This tendency seemed slightly more at home with his fellow thespian friends, rather than with more mellow choir friends like Liselotte, if she could even be classified as such. 

“But when it all comes down to it, I really should have been cast as Tony because I’m the one with the right range! Keith is just going to butcher everything and besides, you should’ve heard the shit he was saying about the directors backstage during the musical last year. He’s so ungrateful, I’m honestly surprised they even cast him at all. If only they knew.”

Liselotte nodded along, munching on a sandwich with Fritz laying attentively at her side. She couldn’t help but notice how shrill his voice became when he got worked up over something that usually ended up being insignificant. In the last three years of high school she had learned it was sometimes just better to let him keep going until everything cleared out of his system.

“Well you and I both know Keith is a dick. He’s probably going to have another blow up at someone during rehearsal and then you don’t have to worry about him anymore,” she responded with an apathetic shrug. Her aggression subsided with astonishing quickness when the problem didn’t affect her. A little self centered, perhaps, but then again who wasn’t? Her emotions rarely swayed because of the feelings of those around her.

“You just don’t understand how hard it is to deal with him every day! I can’t work with this guy. Why didn’t you audition? You keep leaving me stranded all alone with awful people,” the boy whined, leaning his head on Liselotte’s shoulder as she sipped her apple juice. The suggestion nearly made her snort the juice straight out of her nose.

“Oh please. Can you honestly imagine me trying to dance and not hurt myself? It would be hysterical. I’d probably trip all over al the things on stage just trying to walk across, let alone dance,” she said flatly, opening up a tupperware of edamame. “Besides, don’t you guys do fancy spins and shit in that show?”

“Come on man, you woulda made a great Anybody’s. And everyone trips over set pieces so you would’ve been fine,” he fussed, nonchalantly leaning close and trying to snatch some of the beans from her bowl. The moment his fingers closed on a pod she smacked his arm.

“Hey, drop it,” she commanded, placing the bowl on the other side of her away from his grabby hands. “Theatrics just aren’t my thing, I guess. I’m just not into putting on ridiculous outfits and parading around in front of everyone. That’d be stupid.”

The two fell silent for a moment as they continued to eat until the peacefulness was abruptly shattered by a loud herd of people thundering past them and cheering. Liselotte quickly grew irritated, a scowl pinching together the skin on her forehead.

“What the fuck was all that about?” 

Nicholas chuckled coyly and leaned in close to his companion. “It’s Chumani’s birthday today. You should go wish her a happy birthday and bake her a cake. Maybe confess your love for her in the icing.”

Liselotte grimaced at the suggestion. “You little shit,” she muttered, pushing him away indignantly. “Stop trying to set me up with every girl in the damn school. I don’t even think she’s gay first of all, and secondly I’m not at all into the jock-y muscle-y girls.”

“How would you know she’s muscle-y if you haven’t run your hands all over her?” Nicholas asked in a jeering tone.

“Oh please, people talk about it all the time. Plus she plays like a thousand sports I don’t think it’s rocket science.”

“So you just like girls lazy and muscle-less like you then?” he teased.

“Yep. Because if they look like me then I bet they’ll be perfect like me too.”

September 30th, 2:30 PM-

Though Liselotte wouldn’t join the theatre even if her life depended on it, that didn’t mean she didn’t love choir. After all, it has been important enough to warrant pushing a boy down the stairs back in elementary school. Though there was a choir class during the school day with dedicated rehearsal time for her section, Liselotte always stayed after school either to continue rehearsing, or to help out with other groups. The choir room, much like kitchens, provided a safe haven. Familiar scents and familiar sounds, the comforting touch of the old piano keys under her fingers all comforted her restless soul.

Finding the piano bench and lowering herself down, Fritz laid down patiently beside her as the chatter amongst the other students settled down. Normally in the after school period Liselotte would simply work as an accompanist, occasionally giving a little extra help to those who needed it. A long time student of music, it wasn’t all too difficult for Liselotte to pick out voices that were off amongst the crowd, and helping those who were struggling gave a unique sense of feeling needed that the girl with the bad reputation didn’t get anywhere else. Because of this, the choir kids had the unlikely and distinct honor of being the only group of Willowcrest students that weren’t afraid of the reckless rebel.

The group ran through the song lineup for the fall concert, Liselotte’s fingers making melodious music along with their voices when the backstage door slowly creaked open. Nicholas approached the pianist from behind, setting his hands down quickly on her shoulders. Effectively startling the pale faced girl, her nimble fingers suddenly became clumsy as they fumbled over the piano keys in her surprise.

“Heyyy Lottie!” the boy greeted in an excited whisper, “You’ll never guess what!” Liselotte groaned, though it sounded more like a growl as she scooted away from the nuisance who then plopped down on the piano bench beside her.

“What is it, Nick?” she hissed, shoulders tense and growing hostile from the interruption.

“I got you a part in the show!” he announced cheerfully, “I just finished talking to the director about it!” The girl’s porcelain skin somehow managed to pale to lighter shades of white at the news.

“You…you did what?!” Her voice scathing, she reached for the boy and curled her fingers into his shirt, clenching the fabric tightly in her fists. “I told you no! Don’t make me beat you! You go back and tell her I don’t feel like it!” Where there was once idle chatter filling the room, now everyone fell silent. “I said I didn’t want to, I can’t dance and I can’t act.”

“That’s the best part!” Nicholas chirped brightly, “You don’t need to do either of those things!”

Liselotte’s hands loosened their grip on his shirt, and she turned her head to the side in confusion, “…what?”

“I know no one really gets to hear you play piano except the choir kids. So I asked the director about it and she said you oughta join the band and play in the show,” he explained cheerfully. Liselotte furrowed her brow, perplexed by this new development and trying to process what she had just heard. Playing piano…in front of a real audience? “You can also do backup vocals if you wanna, we usually set up a few mics backstage to get a fuller sound for the big numbers.”

“They really want me to play? To sing?”

“Yeah! Just say the word and I can go get the music for you to start practicing!”

The gesture was actually quite touching, once she took a moment to think about it. A small smile crossed her lips as the color returned to her face, and she let go of the boy’s shirt, patting him gently on the shoulder.

“You know, you’re all right Nicky,” she complimented weakly, “I’d love to. Just bring me a CD of the piano parts and I’ll start working on it. And you’ll have to tell me when I need to start being there for rehearsals.”

September 30th, 4:30 PM-

Nicholas could be a little shit, but at least his heart was in the right place. After receiving a CD of the music Liselotte burned the disk on one of the library computers so she could upload it to her music player. The library computers ran slow, but she had plenty of time to kill. There was a bit of a walk between the school and the rec center where she waited for the town shuttle, plus a rather long wait time even after that. The school bus didn’t travel to her neighborhood, and though her mother could drive her to school in the mornings she didn’t get out of work early enough to pick her up. Nicholas took the bus and besides him there wasn’t anyone else she could imagine wanting to carpool with the surly tomboy. So public transit it was. 

Walking with Fritz to the rec center to wait, the faint sound of the marching band warming up in the distance carried on the breeze. Not too bad, but she had other music she ought to start listening to. Upon arriving at their destination Fritz guided her to an empty bench where she pulled out her ipod and its tangled mass of headphones. Fiddling with the cords her movements became more agitated as she attempted to undo what must have been the devil’s work. There was no other explanation for the giant cluster of knots.

“Hello, miss.” Liselotte turned her head towards the sound of the woman’s voice, setting down her little project in her lap.

“Yeah?”

“I need the art classroom. Do you know where the art classroom is inside?” the woman asked, sounding fretful.

“Oh, yeah. Just go inside, there’s a railing and if you follow that around the staircase the classrooms are down the hall to the right,” she directed, turning away and reaching for her headphones once again. Instead of leaving the woman came closer, and grabbed ahold of Liselotte’s hands without a word. Taken aback, Liselotte’s body tensed and she leaned away.

“Hey, what are you doing?” she demanded, the woman slipping her headphones out from between her hands with ease. “Hey! Give those back!”

“I will give them back,” she said simply, Liselotte listening to the sound of her nails flicking as she picked at the tangled chords. “What’s your name?”

The question absolutely baffled Liselotte who in turn sat in befuddled silence for a moment.

“It’s Liselotte. People usually just call me Lottie.”

“Thank you for your help, Liselotte. My name is Elvis.”

“…That’s—“

“An interesting name for a girl, I know. Are you blind?”

Liselotte frowned. She didn’t usually get that question.

“Yeah.”

“Have you always been blind?”

“No.”

“Does your dog bite?”

Wasn’t this the set up to a joke? Liselotte couldn’t remember, entirely confounded by the entire interaction. “No, he’s very well trained. He’s a service dog they aren’t allowed to do that kind of thing.”

“That’s good. Here, now I’ve helped you,” the stranger replied, setting the now tangle free headphones back in the dumbfounded girl’s hands. “It was nice meeting you.”

And with that, she disappeared through the front doors. Liselotte remained in a state of confusion for a while, sitting still with her headphones in her hands for a few minutes before she pushed them into her ears to listen to the music she had to learn. Only a few songs in the music became grumbly, much to her dismay. Was the CD just shitty quality, or had something gone wrong when she was burning the disk? She should’ve known better than to trust library computers. Upon pulling out one of the ear buds, she came to realize that the earth rumbled and growled, not the music.

As soon as she identified the sound, the ground beneath her began to shake furiously, much stronger than any earthquake she had ever felt before. Her legs shook as aggressively as the ground beneath them, and fearfully she slid off the bench and onto the ground, wrapper her arms around Fritz who sat erect and alert, his head looking about frantically. Liselotte buried her face in his fur as the dog sat protectively beside her. An independent soul, Liselotte rarely asked for help. But in that moment, she pleaded.

“Help, please. Somebody…help me.”


	4. Magdalena

September 30th, 7:09 AM-

Magdalena had a wonderful sense of direction. Lucky for her, because she often found herself walking to her first class from whoever’s house she happened to fall asleep at. This particular morning she awoke with the sunlight, and her bedmate’s arm both across her face. Nice. Skillfully, she managed to wriggle herself out from under the man’s arm, scouting around his room in order to gather up her clothes.

Also luckily for her, Magdalena was terrific at layering. Not only did it keep her prepared for unpredictable weather, but it made it substantially less noticeable if she happened to be wearing the same clothes to class as the day before. No one ever had to know, and besides if she changed half way through the day then it wasn’t actually dirty. To mix it up, she ditched the belt from yesterday and instead wore her cardigan tied around her waist. Yesterday’s hair was an updo, so today she would just comb through it, fishing a brush out of her purse and untangling any knots that may have arose from the previous night’s festivities.

As she brushed through her long wavy tresses with a careful eye on the bathroom mirror, the man asleep in the next room began to stir.

“Hey, where are you going baby?” Finally satisfied with the level of tousle her hair had, Magdalena came back to his room, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“I have class hun. We can’t all be lazy bachelors now, can we?”

“Well why don’t you just skip class? And stay here a little while longer? Please, Maggie?” he coaxed, sitting up in bed and attempting a pout. Magdalena raised an incredulous brow at the suggestion, pursing her lips in disapproval.

“I’m paying to go to school, and while my night with you was delightful that was on unpaid time and frankly, it wouldn’t be worth the money for me to stay,” she replied with a wry smile, stepping into the room to grab her shoes and kiss the man on the forehead. “Feel free to call me again sometime on unpaid time, but you’d better not call me ‘Maggie’ if you ever expect me to come back here.”

September 30th, 8:00 AM-

Morning stretches were always a welcome way to start the day, especially after a rather uncomfortable night on a cheap lumpy mattress with someone’s arm unceremoniously slung across her face. Sitting on the floor of the studio she took luxuriously long inhale, pulling her heels close to her body and arching her back, lowering her chest to the floor on her exhale. The deep breathing helped her find her center, and slowly but surely all her muscles began to loosen up from the stiffness of her uncomfortable sleep. Shifting her posture from arched to concave she slowly rolled her spine until she sat upright once again, stretching her arms high above her head. Surely this was one of the prime benefits of being a dance major. She got to stay in shape, and get school credit for it. Not to mention doing what she loved every day. Strategic planning made it so that her jazz technique class started off her mornings, which proved to be the perfect way to wake her up. 

If she had one complaint, it was that despite being a dance major, most of her classes ended up being academic and dull as all hell. Why on earth should a dance major be required to take a chemistry lab anyway? Everyone always said college would give her so much more freedom to pick the things she wanted to study, but so far that freedom seemed pretty limited. When her dance class came to an end she pulled on her jacket and left for the chemistry lab, her heart sinking a little bit and her mood souring just a tad.

Not that the chemistry lab was completely void of anything interesting. Her usual lab partner sat at their usual table with his usual ear to ear smile. Mateo was an incredibly boistrous and endlessly sassy man two years her senior. If it hadn’t been for Mateo, she might not have been able to survive such dry material. If warmups and stretches were her favorite part of the morning, the surely Mateo was her favorite part of the afternoon.

“Magdalena! How was the party last night?” he asked enthusiastically, the rest of the students in the lab peering over their shoulders at him. Surely they should have gotten used it it by now. Mateo had a strong presence in any class, which of course came with a short trial period for people to warm up to his antics.

“Eh, it was pretty fun. The music and the drinks were pretty mediocre though, I’m sure if you were there It would’ve been ten times better,” she assured him, taking a seat at their lab station with a smirk.

“Of course it would have! Oh my god I would not allow anyone to play mediocre music, not a chance! And I would have found you the best guys let me tell you, I know how to spot the ones who are fantastic in bed. I swear its a gift. You and I need to start going out together more, back each other up! We’d be unstoppable!” 

Magdalena had to laugh. His enthusiasm proved nearly as contagious as his smile, and the audacity of the music major was unparalleled. “Well I heard about another house party this Saturday that seems pretty promising. I’m sure I could get you in, I’ll just have my roommate come along too or something.”

“You know I’d love to! Just give me the time, the place, and the theme and you know I’ll be there. You don’t need to bother your roommate about it either, I have my own gaggle of girls that will surely get me into any party,” he assured her with knowing smirk. “You know how good I am with the ladies.”

He was a confident son of a bitch, she had to give him that. Then again, so was she, and Magdalena had a feeling that was why the two of them got along so well.

September 30th, 12:00 PM-

Once they suffered through their science lab, the intrepid duo headed off to lunch. Magdalena wrinkled her nose as they entered, wandering through the different offerings without much looking particularly appealing. She wasn’t usually too fond of the dining hall, but she already paid for it with her room and board fees so she might as well use it. They tended to have pastas that weren’t half bad, so the dancer made her way towards the pasta line while her companion went straight for the hamburgers and french fries.

“So, are you coming to the drag show this Friday?” Mateo asked once the pair rejoined at an empty table. Magdalena responded with a dramatic sigh. Increasing the average dramatic flair in those around him was yet another of Mateo’s skills.

“I will come because I want to support you. But do you have any idea how hard it is for me to find a date who is willing to go with me to a drag show?” she whined, punctuating her words with dramatic flourishes of her spaghetti laden fork. Mateo grinned, shifting his half chewed bite of hamburger to one side of his mouth to speak.

“Honey, if you manage to find a guy you’re looking to settle down with, that had better be the final test. Tall, handsome, charming, good in bed, and willing to go to drag shows with you. That is how you’ll know you’ve found yourself a keeper hun.” She had to laugh at this comment, wondering if perhaps her friend was more invested in her romantic life than she was. At this point in her life, finding someone who qualified as ‘a keeper’ wasn’t too high up on her list of priorities.

“I wasn’t aware any prospective suitors of mine had to be judged by Margarita Maravilla before I could consider settling down with him,” she remarked, raising an inquisitive brow as she sipped her lemonade, eyes locked over the edge of her glass with the man across from her.

“What can I say? I’m here for you cariñita. Just say the word and I’ll be there.”

Magdalena’s face softened. For as loud and bombastic as he could be, the guy knew how to be touching when he really wanted to. She could see how he managed to get people to flock to him, and she was fairly smug about her status as his best friend.

September 30th, 12:50 PM-

After lunch ended, the time for the two to part ways finally arrived. Mateo headed off to his music theory class while Magdalena had the misfortune of slumping her way over to a comparative politics class. It wasn’t as though she didn’t care what was going on around the world. The problem she had with the class was the manner in which the material was presented, that being a laundry list of things that were wrong and needed to be fixed. It overwhelmed her. After all, they were the new minds for the new world, as the professor frequently reminded them, and therefore the responsibility fell on them to make sure everything didn’t fall to shit.

Magdalena couldn’t be too surprised when the professor took time out of the lecture to speak on the matter again today. Whenever he did, she never really included herself in that group. Those types of things weren’t meant for people like her. She had high hopes for her future sure, but they certainly didn’t entail saving the world by any stretch of the imagination. All she wanted was a simple life, a chance to dance, and enough downtime to recharge.

Surely those more extravagant matters could be left in the hands of the unusually gifted of her generation, people like Elvis Blackwood, though a name change would probably need to happen for her to ever be taken seriously in politics. That, and doing away with all those facial piercings and the blue hair. The punky looking academic was the unofficial teaching assistant for the course, though she herself was only a sophomore in her undergraduate degree. Magdalena never would have believed the girl knew much of anything just by looking at her.

The teaching assistant by proxy never dressed nicely for class though the professor often did, dressing in shorts and loose tees even on days she assisted with lecture. Multiple piercings dotted her ears and face, easily visible to all given how the sides of her head were shaved, and Magdalena didn’t even want to consider the possibility that she likely had more elsewhere. The girl also had multiple tattoos that she usually kept on display, including a lizard wrapped around her thigh that looked as though it had just crawled out of her nether regions. Combined with a bright blue mohawk and a know it all demeanor, there was something about Elvis that just rubbed her the wrong way.

September 30th, 2:45 PM-

Unfortunately for Magdalena, it didn’t matter much what she thought of Elvis, she proved to be an invaluable resource. Magdalena wasn’t at school to mess around, despite what the other students may have thought at the small, gossip-ridden school, and there was no way she was going to pass this class without a little extra help. Mateo was a music major, and though he had taken an obligatory government based class as well, he had proven to be of little to no help for studying.

Because of this, after completing the portions of the homework that she could reasonably do alone, the dancer packed up all of her politics notes and assignments and took them to a small tutoring session Elvis held twice weekly for the students in the class. The room’s size was entirely inadequate for the amount of students that attended, and the small space quickly grew stuffy with body heat and sweat and stress that churned in the air. Magdalena made it a point to arrive early to sit at the edge of the desks near the door so she could pop out for a quick breather, if necessary.

Disliking Elvis in person was harder, especially considering she helped out everyone free of charge. Generally she carried herself in a very gentlemanly way, and there wasn’t a doubt in Magdalena’s mind that she knew the source material better than everyone except maybe the professor. The trouble came when she wasn’t able to explain a concept to a particular person. A student left in tears the week prior due to Elvis’ frank irritation with what she called his “inability to follow a logical chain of events”. One thing was certain, no one would ever dare ask any questions about the events leading to Putin’s presidency ever again.

“The, after Vargas was ousted in 1945, we move onto what is known as the Second Republic which lasted from approximately 1946 to 1964. Important figures to remember for this section are Dutra, Vargas, Lubitschek, Quadros, and Goulart. Does everyone remember who they are? Because they will definitely be on the midterm which is coming up soon.” Everyone in the group nodded, and Magdalena flipped quickly through her notes to ensure she actually did write something about each of the names, and starred them for later review.

“Alright then. That is the end of today’s session then. If you have any questions you can email me any time and I will respond when I can.” As everyone began to put away their things and file out of the room, Magdalena noticed Elvis’ eyes lock onto her, immediately making her tense. Slowly the tutor crossed the room and put a hand on her desk.

“Magdalena. Can I ask you a question?” 

She pursed her lips slightly, but she nodded anyway. “Sure, go ahead.”

“You dance at the recreation center, correct?” The question surprised Magdalena, whose concern shifted from worrying over what she was in trouble for, to worrying over how she knew that.

“I do, I teach a dance class. It’s a children’s class though, I’m sorry,” she said hesitantly, standing up from her seat and holding her bag in front of her as Elvis took one step too close.

“That is fine. I only wanted to know if you could tell me the fastest way to get there. I saw that they are offering a new art class and I’m rather keen on it.”

“Oh…well if you just go over to the edge of campus and follow Wilson until you get to South Coldwell, that’s the way I usually go.” Elvis seemed to light up, and hurried over to her place at the front of the room and began putting things in her bag.

“Are you leaving now? Then we could walk there together.”

Magdalena hesitated, nibbling uncertainly on her lip and casting her gaze to the floor. Maybe she shouldn’t have told her the way she went. Going there together would be awkward as hell.

“Ah, uh, I don’t think so, sorry. I have to go change anyway, and then I usually ride my bike over. I’m sorry. See you later, though!”

September 30th, 4:15 PM-

Maybe she stretched the truth a little bit, but there was no way Magdalena would admit it was an outright lie. She truly did need to go home and change into something she could wear to work, she justified to herself. And even though she didn’t usually ride her bike to work, today she would, though mostly because she would be taking a longer route to avoid running into her tutor.

Running into her room she found her roommate sitting at her desk, and the girl smiled slightly in greeting. The two rarely saw much of one another, after all Magdalena hadn’t spent enough time in the room for it to even feel like a home.

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“Hey,” Magdalena replied quickly, crossing to her closet and quickly swapping out her clothes for a sports bra, tank top and sweatpants before power walking back to the door. “See ya.”

Flying back out the door and to the bike rack outside the dorm room she unchained her simple silver bike and took off down the road for the rec center. Riding her bike would be good, she convinced herself as she attempted to shake off the guilt. There was dance team practice that night, so she’d be able to get home faster afterwards.

Due to the slight detour, the young dance instructor ended up slightly late for her class, but only a few of her kids had already arrived. The group she taught on these days were six to ten year olds for beginners jazz, and Magdalena positively adored each and every one of them. She got the cream of the crop when it came to students, as far as she was concerned, and she seriously considered challenging another group of kids at the rec to a dance competition with her little performers. Unfortunately, her competitive spirit wasn’t exactly welcomed by the other rec center staff. Probably because they were afraid, she thought smugly.

“Sorry I’m late! Everyone find a spot and let’s get started with some warm ups!”

The group had scarcely began their stretching routine when the mirrored wall behind Magdalena began to rattle, setting some of the kids on edge. She looked over her shoulder, rising to her feet and placing her hands on the mirror curiously. The whole thing vibrated, and soon the floor underneath them began to shake as well. Maybe there was some kind of generator under this room that had never kicked on during class before? 

Poking her head out the door, it became clear that the whole facility was shaking, the hall littered with confused staff and patrons alike. She opened her mouth to call out to them when a loud sound brought her attention back into her room, a large crack twisting its thin tendrils across the mirror. Her youngest student began to cry.

“I want Sissy!” she wailed, her cries beginning to spike the fear in other students as Magdalena scurried over and rested a hand on the girl’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. As the tremors increased in strength she darted for the emergency exit, swinging the door open that lead out to the fields.

“I need everyone to go outside now!” This only frightened the children more, some of them toppling over as they tried to walk for the door. “Crawl on your hands and knees so you don’t fall!” Nearly falling over herself, she braced herself inside the the doorway as her students obeyed, beginning to crawl out of the room weepy and frightened.

“Eva! Come on now sweetie we need to get outside,” she pleaded with the strawberry blonde girl still crying for her sister, immobile on the floor. Carefully she made her way back into the dance room for the girl, keeping her knees bent a she tried to remain stable on the unsteady ground. As soon as she reached the girl the mirror behind them shattered, and immediately Magdalena wrapped the girl in her arms, attempting to shield her from any glass shards and keeping her eyes screwed shut. 

If she kept her eyes shut, all the problems would go away.


	5. Chumani

September 30th, 4:57 AM-

The sounding of the alarm cruelly yanked Chumani from her pleasant dreams with its incessant cries for attention. Her whole body tense, eyelids squeezing shut just a little harder as though the more she closed her eyes the softer the sound would get. Eventually she gave in, slowly beginning to wake up from an all too short slumber. Despite her hesitation to wake up, once she remained in a steady state of alertness she hopped out of bed with slightly more enthusiasm today than was normal on most other days. 

Approaching the mirror on the back of her door she began to work her thick dark hair back into a tight ponytail, shuffling out of her bedroom in her pajamas to grab a quick bite to eat from the kitchen. The sight when she arrived brought a smile to her lips, greeted by a large “Happy Birthday” banner strung up over the cupboards and a solitary cupcake with pink frosting and sprinkles sitting perched on a confetti covered paper plate on the kitchen table. She never expected her parents to get up as ungodly early as she did, and the gesture gave her all the warm and fuzzy sensations of affection. 

Tossing a few energy bars into the ratty old duffle bag that sat by the garage door, Chumani decided that a cupcake was as good a breakfast as any, and peeled off the paper as she ventured back to her room to get dressed for practice and pack her backpack for the day. Reemerging dressed and full of baked sugary goodness, a nagging voice in the back of her head berated her for her poor eating habits, informing her than she would surely regret it later. In a feeble attempt to appease her conscience, Chumani plucked a banana from the bunch on the counter to eat on the drive.

Her rusty old Camry waited patiently in the garage, and Chumani popped open the door with a long squeak. A hand me down from her parents, she wouldn’t have been surprised if this car was old enough to have witnessed the death of the dinosaurs. Giving the keys a few fruitless turns, the car finally lurched into wakefulness, and Chumani cranked up the music to help wake her up as well as the intrepid pair headed off to the pool, banana in tow.

September 30th, 5:45 AM-

“Happy birthday Chumani!”

As soon as the door to the pool swung shut behind her, Chumani was greeted by a cacophony of sing-song voices. She smiled brightly, finishing off her banana and throwing the peel into the trash with perfect layup form. Someone clapped their hands over the wannabe basketball player’s eyes, and Chumani jumped, grabbing her mystery attacker’s wrists.

“Hey, come on now that’s not nice,” she pouted, managing to free herself from her assailant and turning to see Ariana, unsurprisingly. No one else seemed quite comfortable enough around Chumani to goof off in the way Ariana did. The two had been nearly inseparable since they were young, and had swam together for years. While others treated her as though she were some big foreboding athletic monster, Ariana never seemed to lose sight of what Chumani had been before being thrust into notoriety, and that was something the birthday girl had always appreciated about her. Given their relationship, Chumani was not at all surprised when the girl got a mischievous glint in her cobalt eyes, and though much smaller in stature she proceeded to charge the birthday girl, driving both of them across the edge of the deck and into the pool.

The whole team was in high spirits during the morning practice, and the girls chatted amiably with one another in the locker room afterwards.

“Just so you know, I got you a present!” Ariana called across the locker room as Chumani showered the chlorine out of her hair.

“Oh yeah? Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that,” she replied, though she was touched by the gesture. “What did you get me?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see now won’t you? I’m not just going to announce it like you’re special or something,” Ariana teased playfully as Chumani shut off the water and toweled dry.

“Oh jeez, and here I was thinking I was important,” she scoffed. “You don’t have to be so uppity about it, you know. Courtney gave me a stuffed dolphin this morning and didn’t even ask for so much as a thank you, and here your gift comes with all sorts of rules and regulations.” Courtney, one of the meeker members of the team, smiled bashfully at the compliment, though Ariana simply looked at her and shrugged.

“Well my present is going to be better than a stuffed animal,” she replied flatly. Courtney’s face reddened and the girl visibly deflated. Chumani winced inwardly at the comment, trying to catch Courtney’s eye to mouth an apology but to no avail, as the girl kept her head down while the two of them continued getting dressed for the day. 

Though she and Ariana had been long time friends, this was the sort of thing that caused some strain as they grew older. Chumani had started noticing some of the darker tendencies of her outspoken old friend. If called out on questionable comments, she would normally claim she was simply being honest, and speaking the truth that everyone else was afraid to. Normally though, it came off as much more hurtful and vindictive than revolutionary like she made it seem. In light of that, Chumani wondered briefly to herself if she was associated with that kind of attitude due to their long standing friendship. She certainly hoped not.

“I dunno about that, I really like my dolphin,” she said with only the slightest hint of passive aggressiveness. Looking at Courtney as she wrung out her hair she managed to catch the girl’s eye, smiling apologetically at her downtrodden teammate. Courtney’s pale lips curled into a small smile, and she seemed to perk up slightly. As soon as the group was finished getting ready, the team headed out for school, Chumani holding her stuffed dolphin under one arm as they walked.

September 30th, 7:30 AM-

“Ta-da!”

Ariana waited until they arrived at their first period class to present Chumani with her glorious birthday present. Chumani’s dark eyes flitted over the card that the girl held out, genuinely curious as to what it was that made it worth tarnishing Courtney’s gesture over. The card itself had some sarcastic jab about how old she was getting, befitting the general snarky tone of her outspoken companion, and tucked inside was a gift certificate for the local sporting goods store.

“Oh awesome! I could really use this for new volleyball knee pads, mine are kind of losing their elasticity,” she remarked cheerfully, giving her friend a tight hug.

“You’re welcome, but this is for swimming, not volleyball! Let one of your volleyball friends get you new knee pads. This is for a new training suit, since I noticed yours was getting a little old,” she said with a satisfied smile. Chumani returned the smile weakly, but thanked her regardless for the gift. She supposed a new suit wouldn’t be hat bad, after all she had been wanting a slightly more feminine looking suit rather than the plain, utilitarian black one she had now.

As if on cue, one of Chumani’s so called volleyball friends joined the pair, dropping her bag down beside them and throwing her arms around the birthday girl in a tight bear hug.

“Yooo, happy birthday girl!” Donna greeted, pulling back and giving Chumani a hearty slap on the back. “How does it feel to be ancient?” Chumani snorted, crossing her arms as though she were getting defensive.

“I’d say it feels pretty damn good, thanks for asking,” she retorted with a playful smile. If Ariana was her oldest friend, Donna was the updated model. While there were some qualities of the original that no one could ever replicate, it ran a lot more smoothly and didn’t break down nearly as often. Donna had a bright spirited personality, and bright blonde hair to match. She was also one of the only girls in school that managed to look good within the school’s uniform guidelines, one of those rare people who could look positively radiant even if they were dressed in a potato sack.

“Hey, so I got you a present but it’s kinda for the whole team too, I hope you don’t mind. I will just tell everyone when we’re all together at lunch, okay?” Chumani agreed, though she noticed how Ariana puffed out her cheeks indignantly.

“Oh going to run off with your volleyball friends, I see,” she pouted, but Donna gave her a good clap on the back as well.

“Don’t be sad Ari! Soon enough it’ll be track season again and we’ll all be together!” Even for someone as sour as Ariana it proved difficult to stay moody around the ray of sunshine that was Donna Davin.

September 30th, 12:30 PM-

The trio enjoyed the remainder of their first class together before splitting up to go their separate ways once it finished. Throughout the day, there were people wishing Chumani happy birthday, some she knew and some she didn’t, which was fairly embarrassing. She didn’t much care for being so well known around school, though she did her best to get to know everyone she spoke with in order to dispel any rumors that she was some aloof and unapproachable goddess. When would everyone learn she was just as much of a dorky loser as the average student?

It didn’t help that she was easily identifiable amongst the rest of the student body. She was taller than most of the girls, the long pleated skirt she chose for her uniform piece falling a little shorter on her than most others. That, and the white button up she wore happened to be one of the men’s shirts to accommodate her wide swimmer’s shoulders. This left the sleeves a little long and the torso a little loose, so she rolled the sleeves and tucked the shirt to give her some semblance of shape even in the unflattering uniform. She also had the distinction long dark hair that she always pulled up in a high ponytail, since it was convenient for practice anyway, and she happened to be the only American Indian in all of Willowcrest. It really wasn’t any wonder how she quickly became some sort of school yard spectacle. 

Chumani met up with Donna again at lunch, the blonde’s hand shooting up into the air as soon as Chumani entered in order to flag her down and beckoning her to the table where she sat.

“Hey, what’s up?” Chumani greeted cheerfully, setting her bag down on the table top, her stomach rumbling with embarrassing loudness. Immediately she felt an overwhelming sensation of regret at having eaten a cupcake for breakfast, and was about to explain the rumbling when eight girls leapt towards her from the crowds of the cafeteria. As soon as they reached her, the group began an obnoxiously loud chorus of happy birthday, much to Chumani’s embarrassment. To make matters worse, a few strangers scattered around the cafeteria joined in as well, and she slumped down into a chair in a feeble attempt to hide herself.

“Happy birthday Chu Chu!” Donna cheered, the other girls from the volleyball team beginning to clap surely with the sole purpose of embarrassing her more. Regardless of what gossip around school said about her, in reality the athlete was absolutely mortified to be in the spotlight, especially for something she didn’t have to work for, like being born.

“To celebrate, I’m taking the team out for lunch! Wherever you want, Chu Chu.” The girls cheered again, a few grabbing onto the birthday girl’s arms while another grabbed her bag as they paraded outside and into various girls’ cars to go grab something special to eat.

September 30th, 2:30 PM-

Lunch out at Chumani’s favorite burger joint, and some god old fashioned group bonding was a fantastic way to celebrate. Everyone was in high spirits even after the hamburgers and milkshakes were long gone, and the team decided to play hookey and loiter around town until it came time for practice. As with swim practice in the morning, everyone seemed to do their volleyball drills with a bit of extra pep in their step today, but maybe it was all the sugar from those milkshakes. The lunch had proved to be a pretty effective team building experience for them, and Chumani was delighted she could help make that happen, even if the plan was all Donna’s idea.

Against the pleads of the team, Chumani insisted that she head out after practice, citing some errands she had to run before her birthday dinner that evening. Climbing into the old clunky Camry, she big her team farewell as she pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the sporting goods store to spend her gift certificate. Some of the girls would have probably been happy to join her, but Chumani was a self conscious and solitary shopper. 

The chiming of the bell on the door signaled her arrival, and the girl working the store continued to eye her with as a strange look as Chumani walked through the store, which of course didn’t do much to help her self consciousness. What if she too knew who was was, and that it was her birthday? Monroe was really much too small, in that case. This girl definitely didn’t go to her school, she would have remembered someone as tall and stacked as the strange employee. Hopefully she just went to the university, and didn’t play on any rival teams, she could probably give anyone at Willowcrest a run for their money. Chumani made a bee line for the swim suits, beginning to rifle through them absently and stopping on a suit in a lovely shade of bright pink.

“Can I help you find anything?” the employee asked, Chumani looking up with a polite smile.

“Oh, no. I’m good, thanks. Just trying to decide on a new training suit is all. Mine’s getting a little old,” she explained, suddenly embarrassed by the bright pink suit and letting it go and instead grabbing a black one in its place. “Any suggestions?”

The employee visibly tensed at the question, her dark eyes looking away immediately. “Well…I think these over here are pretty popular,” she said of the black suits, “but black is kind of plain. I think the colored ones are good if you wanted to stand out.”

Chumani grabbed the pink suit again with a small smile flitting across her thin lips. She wasn’t exactly a fan of standing out, but she did like that the color lent a little more femininity to her.

“Does the pink look good on me?” she asked, holding the suit against her body and comparing the color against her skin suddenly feeling self conscious with her bold choice.

“There’s a mirror over there, feel free to go take a look. I’ll be at the register when you’re ready,” the employee replied, pointing her over towards the wall before walking away. Creeping uncertainly over to the mirror Chumani held the suit up against her body again, lending a critical eye to her reflection. She’d better buy it now she decided, rather than risk talking herself out of it and not buying anything at all. She approached the girl at the register with a smile, paying for the pink suit with her gift certificate and thanking her for her help. While walking back to her car with the new purchase in hand, an excited giddiness swelled within her. She figured she might as well go and try it out today, and treat herself to a little more relaxing swim before dinner. It was her birthday, after all.

September 30th, 4:30 PM-

The pool always felt more refreshing when she wasn’t obligated to be there. Of course, a brand new suit also helped her outlook. Strutting out of the locker room the familiar echo of the pool swelled to greet her. There were children and their parents splashing around in the shallow end with little floating toys, a few older boys using the pool noodles was water cannons despite not knowing where exactly those noodles had been before putting their mouths on them, and a solitary kid on the far end who was swimming or rather scooting slowly back and forth short ways along the wall. That meant she would have the lap pool to herself, which wasn’t especially unusual.

A few quick warm up laps into her leisure swim, Chumani took a break to hang onto the edge of the wall and catch her breath when her attention was captured by a strange rattling noise. Surveying the area quickly, the culprit seemed to be the lifeguard’s stand that vibrated on the floor. The water too began to churn as though she floated in turbulent ocean waters, and the boy sitting in the lifeguard stand began to look concerned as to what was happening, what to do about it, and how to get down. Suddenly, the boy’s decision was made for him as the stand toppled over, taking the lifeguard down with it.

Children in the pool began to scream and squeal as the water churned angrily and the loud clatter echoed through the room, and Chumani hoisted herself from the pool and ran to the boy’s side, dropping down to the ground beside him.

“Are you okay? Is anything broken?” she asked, stooping down next to him and trying not to drip water on his face as she craned over him. Soon a man holding his young daughter made his way towards them on the unsteady ground.

“I have a cell phone on me, do you need an ambulance?” 

The lifeguard appeared to have the wind knocked out of him as he breathed heavily, and his body bore a few large scrapes across his forearms and knees, but otherwise he seemed to be alright. As he struggled to restore air to his lungs, he managed to wheeze out a few words.

“Someone…in the pool,” he gasped, pointing back to the water. Chumani looked over her shoulder, seeing no one in what had effectively become a wave pool. With sudden clarity she recalled the kid who had been scooting across the wall of the deep end and she turned quickly, stumbling while she tried to rise to her feet once more as the ground shook underneath her. Sloppily she entered the pool, the world seeming to immediately calm once she floated under the surface of the water. In the distance she could make out the vague outline of a person drifting towards the bottom, and immediately began swimming towards them with deliberate, powerful strokes. As soon as she got close enough to reach a hand to retrieve the person, she grabbed it and tugged aggressively, positioning herself under the unconscious body and swimming back for the top. She gasped as she broke the surface, swimming to the edge and laying on the kid on the side of the pool.

Breathe.  
Breathe.

“Call an ambulance,” she insisted in a gasping voice, crawling shakily out of the water as adrenaline quickened her breath and made her limbs quiver on the already unsteady ground, a rabbit’s heartbeat making her dizzy. She rolled onto her back, attempting to control her breathing and regain some semblance of stability. Her limbs felt like they were made of rubber, and her head felt light as she slowly closed her eyes.

Breathe.  
Breathe.


	6. Nixie

September 30th, 5:30 AM-

If it weren’t for long hot showers first thing in the morning, Nixie didn’t think she would actually wake up until at least noon. But a shower wasn’t just for waking up, and the more obvious purpose of getting clean. No, a nice hot shower often ended up being her favorite part of the whole day. In the shower she had all her best ideas. Thesis statements came easily, as well as ideas for new crafts, accessories, anything. If given enough time in the shower, Nixie was certain she could solve world hunger, cure cancer, just about anything. It was remarkable how much she could get done when allotted just a little peace and quiet, and some time to herself.

As soon as she stepped out of the glass safe haven of the shower, it was time for responsibility. Her little sister Eva like to pretend to help out, though more often than not she ended up making a bigger mess for Nixie to deal with, unsurprising given that six year olds are rarely very helpful. That was the precise reason why Nixie had negotiated with her little sister some weeks beforehand to work out a system. The two had come to an agreement that instead of attempting to wake and feed their two younger brothers, Finn who was four and James only two, she would instead be in charge of getting herself awake, fed, and ready to go by 6:30 when it came time for them to leave.

Though the day had just barely started the kitchen had already become a mess when Nixie trotted downstairs, but this time it was a result of her being too busy to clean the night before, rather than her sister’s clumsiness. Getting breakfast prepared and on the table for the boys, the strawberry blonde managed to squeeze in a brief amount of time to whip up some peanut butter toast for herself before carting everyone to the bathroom for a good group tooth brushing. As always, James fussed about having his teeth brushed for him, insisting that because he was nearly three he could do it himself. Nixie had long since learned to pick her battles with the youngest of the Sørensen clan, and let him stiffly brush his teeth while she worked on her own.

“James isn’t doing it right,” Eva whined, spitting foamy toothpaste residue across the mirror as she spoke. At least she tried to be helpful. That was more than could be said for the two boys, though it wasn’t really fair to expect much of children.

“Leave him alone and just work on your teeth,” Nixie reminded her gently as Finn spit and rinsed his mouth, running out of the bathroom with the pitter patter of little feet on linoleum mixed with enthusiastic cheering about cartoons. “Not until you put some clothes on!” she called after him, unsure of whether or not he heard, or cared. She bent down with a heavy sigh to make sure James’ teeth got at least somewhat clean, giving them a few good scrubs of her own before lifting up the boy so he could spit and rinse as well.

“I want cartoons too Sissy!” James requested with a bright smile. The kid sure was cute. Nixie’s face softened, tousling the boy’s blonde hair briefly before sending him on his way.

“Go pick out an outfit and then you can watch cartoons,” she said gently, and the boy waddles off and around the corner excitedly.

“Hey Eve, can you go make sure Finn’s clothes match?” she requested, raising her brows and offering the girl an encouraging smile. The little girl brushed her curly hair out of her face which immediately lit up at the prospect of being helpful, and immediately she took off running.

“Hey Finn! I need to look at your clothes!” she shouted, causing her younger brother to whine loudly.

“Inside voices!” Nixie reminded, raising her tone herself as she called out, plopping down on the couch with a heavy sigh, hoping for a moment’s rest. As she heard the patter of James’ feet approaching from down the hall she flipped on the TV, craning her neck to see the boy rounding the couch in a t-shirt with airplanes and a pair of blue shorts.

“You sure you aren’t gonna be cold in that? It’s September,” she asked, looking down at the boy who climbed onto her lap.

“Nope!” he said simply, settling down with his head against her with his eyes trained on the television. Nixie wrapped an arm around the boy fondly as he leaned into her. James was a good kid, quiet, and usually did what he was told despite being in the so called terrible twos which indeed she remembered being quite terrible for both Eva and Finn. Hell, the older of the two kids still didn’t do what they were told, having since learned that they didn’t actually need to anything the eldest sister said. However, much to her surprise they too come out dressed reasonably as asked, and looking moderately cheerful.

Today would be a good one.

September 30th, 6:30 AM-

Piling everyone into the little car was another work of coordinated magic, but the Sørensen gang seemed to have the routine down by now. James clamored into the car first, and sat in his car seat which was secured in the middle. He was even able to do the first set of his buckles with a proud smile, though he required assistance for the last few clicks. Eva sat on his right, helping him with the last of his buckles before strapping herself in, while Finn hopped into a small booster seat to James’ left.

Once all of the contents in the vehicle were secure, Nixie pulled out of the driveway and headed off to the first stop: daycare for Finn and James. Getting them situated didn’t take much time, with Finn always running off to play as soon as he got checked in. The staff always had a friendly disposition towards Nixie, though she couldn’t help but notice the look of pity on their faces whenever she walked in with the boys. James tended to be clingier than Finn, Holding on tightly to Nixie’s blue school skirt as she turned to leave. His bright blue eyes wouldn’t meet hers, as he looked at the floor and pouted. Gently, she uncurled his little fingers with a sympathetic smile, crouching down to kiss him on the forehead.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Nixie promised, ruffling his blonde hair before straightening up and heading back for the car.

After daycare, the next stop on her laundry list was Eva’s elementary school. The old school house was the very same that Nixie had attended years ago, and remained largely unchanged since her days there like a ghost of a simpler time. Often she would run into old teachers when coming in for her sister, those too stubborn to retire or move on to bigger and better things. They usually stopped to chitchat about how she was doing, always with the same look of sympathy as the ladies at the daycare center. Nixie didn’t mind their sympathy; it could be disheartening, but not devastating. Instead, it was when she began to feel sorry for herself that she got upset. Intentionally or otherwise, the one thing her mother taught her about coping was to suffer in silence, else become a burden unto others.

September 30th, 7:30 AM-

At school, she received no such looks. No one at school knew much about Nixie’s family life, and to be perfectly honest she preferred it that way. No one knew much of anything about her really, only a few of her close knit group of friends were even aware she had younger siblings. Everything was a big protective measure against feeling sorry for herself, carefully constructed over the years. If no one knew anything was wrong, then she couldn’t go around moping about it.

English was her first period, luckily. Nixie had been an avid reader since childhood, and wrote near constantly due to the thrifting blog she ran. Online people knew even less about her, which made her feel safe. All anyone knew was she was great at spotting diamonds in the rough at thrift stores, and making her own accessories. She wrote little thrifting diaries and created tutorials, and occasionally held giveaways for the little bracelets she made at home. The more she helped other people with their problems, the less she had to think about her own.

Of course, her problems were never fashion related either. Nixie prided herself on being thrifty, yet well put together regardless of the situation, social or financial. Her craft wasn’t allowed to be showcased at school as there was a uniform requirement, but on the weekend she paraded around in her new finds and let her friends fawn over how stylish she looked. At those times, her problems seemed furthest away.

None of her friends were in her first class of the day, but once she headed over to her earth science class she had her two closest companions for company. Farrah Santiago was a bubbly volleyball player with big brown eyes, voluminous, curly air, an addiction to anime, and a laugh like a donkey. Sydney McMullen was one of the smartest people she knew, though she invested all of her efforts into hunting paranormal entities, convinced one day she would become a renowned cryptozoologist and find definitive proof of bigfoot, lake serpents, Minnesota’s local wendigos. In anyone could manage that, it had to be Sydney.

Having friends in that class didn’t benefit Nixie much, as that particular teacher was the only one in the entire school that insisted everyone sit in assigned seats as though they were still in Kindergarten, though it felt a lot less fun that Kindergarten and a lot more like hell. Today was a project work day however, and as soon as the teacher dismissed them to break into their groups the three clumped together quickly with their supplies in hand.

“Ready to build our fish and cricket torture chamber?” Sydney asked dryly, causing Farrah to burst into her distinctive giggle, doing her best to mask it and contain herself but failing miserably.

“Well supposedly if we build this biome Mrs. Van Buren designed, then all the nutrients will cycle through and that’s why we aren’t allowed to feed them,” Nixie offered with a shrug, looking at the assignment sheet.

“Yeah, sure. The only problem is I don’t think she actually knows what she’s doing,” Sydney replied flatly.

Nixie snorted, producing the three two-liter bottles they needed, as well as setting the instructions from their teacher on the lab table. Farrah pulled out a small fish in a plastic bag, as well as a small container filled with crickets, both of which were recently purchased at the pet store that morning. Supposedly, these animals would inhabit their little plastic world. Once the plastic chamber was constructed out of the bottles, it came time to try and get the crickets inside, which proved disastrous. As soon as the trio opened the container to put them into their layer of the biome, half of them leaping for freedom and hopping off around the classroom, not that they planned to tell Mrs. Van Buren about that.

Once everything was taped together, plants, fish and crickets sealed within their death chamber, the group took their time cleaning up and looking busy to stall until the en of class.

“Where do you guys wanna go for lunch?” Nixie asked, giving the countertop a much more thorough scrubbing than it actually needed.

“Oh…today is Chumani’s birthday so Donna told us we were all going to go out and do something with her I think,” Farrah said, looking guilty as she returned from putting back the tape. Nixie shrugged it off, reassuring the girl with a small smile.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, I don’t mind. You go have fun, I’m sure you won’t miss anything. Syd, what are you craving?” Sydney had been keeping herself busy by massaging her face in an attempt to get rid of the goggle imprints that lined everyone’s eyes despite the lack of any remotely dangerous chemicals used in their experiment.

“I don’t have anything particular in mind, wherever you’d like to go,” she said with a shrug. “Though if the question you were actually asking was ‘Sydney could you decide on a place to eat?’ in that case my answer would be Taco Bell, because I am in the mood to indulge briefly and then hate myself for the rest of the day, and that is the prime establishment for such an activity.”

September 30th, 1:15 PM-

As soon as the bell freed them Nixie and Sydney headed out to lunch sans Farrah, eating a few questionable tacos and enjoying one another’s company. Sometimes, when it was only two people, Nixie felt even closer to her friends. The more people there were vying for her attention, the less she had to give each person. The same could be said about the kids, she supposed. One at a time, she could properly adore each and every thing they did, but when they were all chattering at her at once, there were a million other places she would rather be than with them.

In the same respect, marching band often felt a lot more like a chore than a fun extracurricular. She had been excited about being a section leader at first, though it often ended up being a lot like watching after the kids. The major difference between the two was she couldn’t pick up any of the kids, and she didn’t have the authority to send any of the clarinet players to their room for the remainder of the night.

And then there was Leighanne. Leighanne was hard for Nixie to figure out. On some level, she knew she was just a well meaning girl with a lot of pep in her step. She didn’t hate the girl, but when it had already been a long day and she was just longing to get out of her last class, there was nothing more grating on her nerves than the sound of her voice.

“Hey Nixie!” the pigtailed girl greeted her, and immediately she could feel the headache beginning to take hold. She didn’t say anything, not wanting to encourage the girl to start a conversation. Instead she smiled, a tight lipped smile that she hoped was a fairly universal sign for not wanting to talk, or being otherwise uninterested in engaging with the person. It seemed to work, and the girl turned away to take out her instrument and her music, humming the marching show’s closer to herself as she did so. Leighanne reminded Nixie of a bird, little and cute, always singing some kind of song even at ungodly hours of the morning. Nixie hated birds.

September 30th, 2:30 PM-

Just because school had ended didn’t mean that Nixie’s day was anywhere close to winding down. There were still mountains of chores waiting for her elsewhere, the first of which was picking up the children. First came Eva, who waited for her a couple blocks from school so Nixie didn’t have to fight with other potentially irritable people in the pick up line. Eva hopped into the car with a picture she had done in art class, excitedly telling her older sister about her day while Nixie nodded and smiled, slow to respond as she fought off the headache from band.

Once the first passenger was secure, Nixie moved on to the other two rascals. Finn and James were typically glad to see their sister, but today something seemed to be bothering Finn who sat pouting in the back while James talked about the new friend he had made. No opportunities presented themselves to ask Finn about what was wrong, because as soon as the car was parked in the garage he headed straight for his room.

There wasn’t much time left in her schedule for playing toddler counselor anyway, as this time was solely dedicated to getting as much of her work done before band practice as possible. She hadn’t been working for long when she heard the garage door begin to open, a curious sound to hear as her car already sat inside. Her mouth hung just barely ajar, silently begging answers to unformed questions as her mother strode into the house with her luggage trailing behind her as though she had never been gone.

“Oh, hey there darling. I’m going to go unpack, but then we can talk, alright?” Leaving some of her baggage in the living room she exited with the rolling suitcase with nothing else to say, though words weren’t finding their way across Nixie’s tongue any easier once she was gone. Her blue eyes stared down at her lab write up blankly, words unable to come from her pencil either. Standing quickly to her feet, she strode into the room she and Eva shared, where the girl was getting changed into her dance clothes, just as she had hoped.

“We’re going to go to dance a little early today, okay?” Her younger sister nodded with a grin.

“Okay! Then I will have more time to talk to Miss Rosales,” she beamed, grabbing her little bag and water bottle and bouncing out towards the car. Noticing the second car in the garage Eva frowned slightly, but neither she nor her sister said anything about it as they climbed into Nixie’s vehicle and peeled quickly out of the driveway. There was no way she had the capacity to deal with her mother’s excuses today, though judging by her casual demeanor when she walked in she probably hadn’t even thought of justifying her spontaneous absence and just as sudden return.

September 30th, 3:50 PM-

Even just being away from the house helped Nixie calm down considerably, though her mind was a tangled mess as she tried to sort through rational thoughts and flurries of emotion. Pulling into the parking lot of the rec center, she took Eva’s hand tightly in her own as the pair walked towards the dance room. They were a good ten minutes early, and the first to arrive, so she decided to loiter in the room along with her sister until someone else showed up.

“I’ll show you what we’ve learned!” Eva quipped excitedly, running out into the middle of the floor to show off her routine to her mentally absent sibling.

As time passed and a few other students arrived, it looked as though Miss Rosales was running a bit late, so Nixie entrusted her sister with one of the other parents as she went to gather her things for band practice out on the field. As per usual, the kids in her section were chatting idly and not doing much of anything when she arrived, but as soon they saw the stern face of their section leader approaching they scurried to get ready. Once warm ups were through, everyone went back to their usual shenanigans, one of the drummers daring Leighanne to try to chug as much of her water bottle as she could.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she cautioned wearily, but no one seemed particularly intent on listening and Nixie didn’t have the energy left to protest any further. Her mind still raced with wild abandon, and soon it felt like the chaos inside her head had projected itself into the real world as she felt the ground begin to shake beneath her feet. Nixie looked around wide eyed for confirmation that this was actually happening, and she wasn’t having some kind of mental break. The others around her had noticed too, much to her relief, but the shaking increased in strength and high pitched utterances of concern chimed in with the rumbles. 

With controlled panic in his voice the band director instructed everyone to sit together in the middle of the field as the stadium lights began to burst above them. Without hesitation Nixie followed his orders, though already she could feel the sting of hot tears in her eyes. Surely this day couldn’t get any worse. She worried about her sister, spying the building beside the stadium shaking with equal vigor. She worried about the boys at home.

As if she knew, Leighanne grabbed her hand reassuringly.

Nixie squeezed the smaller girl’s hand in her own with desperation, and squeezed her eyes shut just as tightly.


	7. Elvis

September 30th, 9:30 AM-

With an expertly planned schedule, and just a little bit of luck, one could manage to sleep in until 10 every day. Elvis never bothered with an alarm, as it simply wasn’t needed given she woke up on her own at 9:30 on the dot every day with plenty of time to get ready before her first class. Sitting up in bed the blue haired girl stretched, wiping some long hairs away that had stuck unceremoniously to her face while she slept. She needed to shower and rebraid those anyway. That would be today’s second order of business. First on the list of tasks for today was a shower.

Unlike when she lived in the dorms as a freshman, where the girls always lined up waiting for the one shower on the whole floor with something resembling water pressure, the shower in her single room apartment was always hot and vacant and ready with all the pressure she needed for her convenience. Not only that, but it was substantially cleaner than those communal stalls, something Elvis greatly appreciated. As a young freshman she had always fought against her opposing desires to not get any disgusting foot fungus, but to not have to wear any soggy shower shoes that made loud wet squelches when she stepped either. She no longer needed to carry all of her things back and forth, instead having them set up in suitable order along the edge of the tub, and she could walk naked from her bedroom to the bathroom without any prying eyes of her hall mates. There wasn’t anyone to keep her awake talking at all hours of the night or moving her things or interrupting her activities or distracting her from homework, and there really wasn’t much else she could ask for than that. Without a doubt, Elvis Blackwood was much more suited for living alone.

Also much unlike her freshman dorm, the small apartment had a kitchen of its own, though she rarely used the appliances other than the fridge and the microwave. Cooking anything in the oven or on the stove simply took too long, and her tastes were simple enough that a microwave usually did the trick. This morning, as she felt particularly adventurous, Elvis decided on having a bowl of cocoa pebbels instead of fruity. Sometimes she liked to live life on the edge.

Since childhood Elvis had gotten into the habit of laying out her outfits for the upcoming day the night prior, that way if anything unexpected got in the way of her daily routine she would have that much more time to handle them accordingly. Today’s spread included a well worn band tee, and grungy green jeans that she thought complimented her blue hair quite nicely. She had been told her appearance could be intimidating, or off-putting, but that didn’t matter much to her as long as she liked it. Taking a moment in front of the mirror, her fingers nimbly went to work tightly braiding the long strands of hair that hung down in front of her ears from the otherwise shaved sides of her head. Once both sides were delicately wound together, she gave them a quick twirl around her fingers with a small smile before heading out the door.

September 30th, 10:30 AM-

With plenty of time remaining until class, Elvis strolled leisurely through the quaint little campus. Being a small private school in a tiny town, even at a slow, meandering pace it only took about ten minutes for her to reach her economics class. She arrived just early enough to snag her usual seat in the middle of the third row, what she considered prime location. It wasn’t so close to the professor that she felt the need to make any actual eye contact or some up with other things to look at, yet it wasn’t so far away that she got distracted and doodled in her notebook instead. Apparently others thought the same thing, however, as not arriving early usually meant coming in to find someone else had stolen her unofficial spot. Few things made Elvis more irritable, which made it worth getting there a little earlier than she otherwise might.

The specifications of her seats mattered more in classes she had little interest in and the risk of getting distracted was heightened, like with physics for example. When material couldn’t hold her attention, her mind wandered away to doodles instead. In fact, her doodles as of late had begun to draw her attention so much that she had been thinking about getting into an art class. Setting the notebook filled with said scattered doodles off to the side, the blue haired girl pulled her laptop from her bag and headed straight for Monroe’s town site to look up where she could find art lessons locally.

Much to her satisfaction, the rec center just a few minutes from campus had a short, basic class posted for only $50. As Elvis had nothing else planned for the late afternoon that particular September day, it today seemed as good as any day for testing it out.

September 30th, 1:30 PM-

Elvis’ school schedule left her with one hyper-condensed block of classes per day, which allowed for leisurely mornings and fairy open afternoons. When she left to join Sammy O’Neil for lunch, class had finished for the day. As usual Sammy waited for her near the west parking lot, leaning against their car. Much like Elvis, Sammy had a slight alternative edge to their look, and came off as intimidating even more so than their blue haired counterpart due to their aggressive nature. They had a dramatic haircut like their companion, with long red hair on one side of their head and a black streak running through the front. Sammy’s face bore even more piercings and their body even more tattoo laden that Elvis’, and they tended to wear smudged black eyeliner that made them look like a cross between a punk and glam rockstar.

“Afternoon,” they greeted as Elvis approached wordlessly, waiting until they unlocked the passenger side door and climbed into the car. “How’s the day treating you?”

“Not bad,” Elvis quipped, setting her bag on her lap as she slid into the passenger side seat. “I have decided I am doing to go to the recreation center and take an art class today.” Sammy raised a curious, pierced brow at the news, starting the car and rolling off towards town to fetch something for lunch.

“Yeah? What kind of art are you thinking? If you wanted to get an apprenticeship at Voodoo I’m sure you could,” they offered. The pair had met in the shop Sammy currently apprenticed for when Elvis had first moved into town and came in looking to get a back piece started. Sammy struck up conversation with the blue haired girl in the waiting room immediately, and the two exchanged contact information before she left the shop. Elvis had even allowed her friend to practice on her, now bearing a swirled lizard design around her thigh to show for it.

“No. I do not want to do tattooing, I don’t want to do art full time. I want to get into politics as soon as I am out of school,” Elvis replied seriously. Sammy snorted at her response.

“With hair like that do you honestly think anyone would take you seriously?” they challenged, pulling the car up to a local dive to eat. Elvis wrinkled her nose and squinted her eyes disapprovingly at the suggestion.

“I can take the piercings out during work and during interviews. And I have my debate wigs to wear as well,” she retorted, getting out of the car and heading inside the restaurant with her fiery haired, and fiery worded companion. They were seated without any trouble as the place remained fairly obscure even in the small town, like a well kept secret from the rest of the world. Elvis picked up the plastic coated menu and began to painstakingly examine the entirety of the menu while Sammy leaned back in their chair casually throwing an arm over the back and hardly bothering to open their own menu.

A waiter came by shortly after their arrival to take drink orders, Sammy requesting a water with lemon while Elvis asked to try out the chocolate malt. Sammy smirked at the choice. 

“You know your face is going to hurt so bad by the time you are done sucking that thing down, the malts they have here are huge,” they warned. Elvis shrugged indifferently, but said nothing. Though Sammy would never scrutinize her choices in appearance or apparel like many others would, they still had quite a bit to say about all the other decisions she made.

The arrival of the drinks left Sammy watching in amusement as Elvis sucked her cheeks in hard to pull up the thick malt from her glass, taking breaks when brain freeze crept its way across her head. Both students ordered the same cheeseburger for lunch, and as soon as the waitress left Sammy looked up with sudden inspiration.

“You can I should be roommates, and get a dog,” they decided as Elvis continued to struggle with sucking down her malt. “I don’t really like little dogs. But I’ve heard that lots of big dog breeds can be pretty mellow. We would just need to find a place that would allow a big dog. Like a great dane! Or a mastiff!” Elvis didn’t respond, her eyes trained on the malt before her. “Elvis? What do you think?”

Pulling back from the drink for another brain breeze break, Elvis twirled one of her small braids around her finger with uncertainty plain on her face. “I don’t want to move out of my apartment,” she replied frankly. “And my lease isn’t up yet so I can’t do that right now. That, and big dogs scare me.”  
This news made Sammy grumble quietly to themself, but they couldn’t stay grumpy for long as the food arrived shortly after. The pair busied themselves with their hamburgers, and Elvis noticed a distinct soreness in her cheeks beginning to develop from her malt, as predicted.

September 30th, 2:30 PM-

For the remainder of their lunch the two made idle chit chat from the most recent political candor to attempting to sweet talk Elvis into taking up the tattoo apprenticeship. As the lock neared 3, the intrepid duo headed back to campus to carry out the remainder of their days work.

“Hey, if you want to come over tonight I just got a bunch of Criss Angel dvds in the mail, we could check them out,” Sammy offered, pulling a pack cigarettes out of their pocket. Elvis drummed her fingers on her thigh, tempted by the promise of magic and likely fatty foods to do along with it.

“I have to tutor right now, but I would like to see those videos. I’ll text you and tell you when I am done with my art class,” she decided, slipping out of the car before her companion could light the cigarette, and slinging her bag over her shoulder. “See you later, Sammy.”

Comparative politics had always been one of her best classes, so it made sense to help people out. Besides it looked good on her record to be a teaching assistant and a tutor on top of it all. The only trouble was the kids who came in for help didn’t often put forth the effort to actually learn anything. Surely if they just took the time to listen to her, they wouldn’t be failing the tests.

“The, after Vargas was ousted in 1945, we move onto what is known as the Second Republic which lasted from approximately 1946 to 1964. Important figures to remember for this section are Dutra, Vargas, Lubitschek, Quadros, and Goulart. Does everyone remember who they are? Because they will definitely be on the midterm which is coming up soon.” The ones who showed only because their academic advisors told them to didn’t respond, while those who were actively listening nodded, some writing down or circling their names.

One such attendee, Magdalena Rosales, was of particular interest to Elvis. Sammy, who worked for the student life department of the university, was a reliable informant who enjoyed relaying information about the more interesting of the student body. Magdalena received the school’s highest amount in individual scholarship, and was a trophy winning competitive dancer who was currently on the school dance team. It seemed reasonable, then, that she would know the fastest way to get to the recreation center.

Striding up to the student’s desk, Elvis placed a hand on the tabletop to get her attention. “Magdalena. Can I ask you a question?”

Magdalena looked up quickly, and nodded. “Sure, go ahead.”

“You dance at the recreation center, correct?”

The girl sat quiet for a moment, which struck Elvis as strange. It really was a simple question. “I do, I teach a dance class. It’s a children’s class though, I’m sorry,” she replied finally, standing up from her seat. Elvis smiled, realizing she was in the company of a fellow educator and moved closer to help her with her bag, but before she could the girl picked it up and swung it in front of her in a manner that struck Elvis as odd.

“That is fine. I only wanted to know if you could tell me the fastest way to get there. I saw that they are offering a new art class and I’m rather keen on it.” Magdalena’s lips twitched slightly, like she was testing out different words that would be best for starting her sentence.

“Oh…well if you just go over to the edge of campus and follow Wilson until you get to South Coldwell, that’s the way I usually go.”

With the information fresh in her mind, Elvis hurried back to the table at the front of the room to write it down before it had a chance to fall out her ears, and then began tossing things into her bag.

“Are you leaving now? Then we could walk there together.”

Magdalena once again took much too long to answer a simple yes or no question. Maybe that was why she was in tutoring, the timed essays would probably be rough for her.

“Ah, uh, I don’t think so, sorry. I have to go change anyway, and then I usually ride my bike over. I’m sorry. See you later, though!” Elvis’ smile faded, but she shrugged off the disappointment as she left the room. She had everything written down, she reasoned, she didn’t need the company any way.

September 30th, 4:00 PM-

Magdalena’s directions were simply enough, and after a quick pitstop to drop off her school things she headed out on her way. Heads turned towards her briefly as she strode down the sidewalk with her hands balled up in her pockets, quickly looking away as the girl’s dark eyes caught those of the passing strangers. Following the path a little ways further, the center soon came into view framed by greenery and neat rocks. The picture on the website must have been taken from this exact same vantage point, because what Elvis saw now looked identical to the banner on the website, only the leaves on the surrounding forestry were beginning to erupt in fiery color now that summer was drawing to a close.

The only other difference between the scene before her and the photo was the girl Elvis spied sitting on a bench out front, an intimidating looking dog in a harness sitting by her side. The dog didn’t seem especially big, but the closer she drew to the pair it grew big enough to set her on edge. The girl beside the dog with the dark glasses fiddled with something in her long pale fingers, what appeared to be a pair of headphones that she didn’t bother to look at as she tugged at the knots. 

Walking past the girl Elvis placed a hand on the door, only then realizing she didn’t know where the art classrooms were. Looking back over her shoulder at the girl on the bench she swallowed to ease the tension in her throat, keeping a careful eye on the dog as she approached.

“Hello, miss.” Both the girl and the dog turned their heads in her direction, and she locked eyes with the dark brown mutt, staring him down.

“Yeah?”

“I need the art classroom. Do you know where the art classroom is inside?” she questioned, looking back at the glass doors that lead indoors. She knew her sense of direction was bad enough that it was a risk wandering around in an unfamiliar building, just the thought made a small stirring of anxiety rise up in her chest. She wouldn’t want to miss her art class because she was busy panicking elsewhere.

“Oh, yeah. Just go inside, there’s a railing and if you follow that around the staircase the classrooms are down the hall to the right,” the girl directed, turning her head back forward and hunching over the headphones in her lap and giving a few stubborn tugs on the cords. Elvis took a step closer, being mindful of the dog, and gently taking the girl’s hands in her own to take a look at the headphone tangle. She was close, it wouldn’t take much longer to get it undone. Deftly she plucked the tangled mass from her hands.

“Hey, what are you doing? Give those back!” the girl demanded, holding her hand out insistently.

“I will give them back.” Elvis promised, already having loosened the knot to the point that she could pull the other pieces through. It was then it dawned on her that she hadn’t even asked the girl’s name. That was something she was supposed to do, after all. “What’s your name?”

“It’s Liselotte. People usually just call me Liz.”

“Thank you for your help, Liselotte. My name is Elvis.” Liselotte furrowed her brow in confusion, and immediately Elvis anticipated the words she was about to utter.

“…That’s—“

“An interesting name for a girl, I know.” Elvis quipped, having gotten the comment more times than not. “Are you blind?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you always been blind?” she asked, gripping a part of the cord gently in her teeth to loosen one last knot.

“No.”

Elvis fiddled with the last of the mess, her eyes flitting from her project back to the perky eared brown dog. “Does your dog bite?”

“No, he’s very well trained. He’s a service dog they aren’t allowed to do that kind of thing.” A service dog? She hadn’t ever met one in person before, she supposed then he couldn’t be that bad.

“That’s good. Here, now I’ve helped you,” she said proudly, setting the now tangle free headphones in Liselotte’s open palm. “It was nice meeting you.”

The girl, Liselotte, didn’t seem like she had much to say, so Elvis quickly departed and headed indoors, following the new directions straight to the room where the class was. The instructor sat perched in the front of her room, and Elvis introduced herself for the second time that day, expressing interest in the class. Upon learning there were open spaces available, she paid the class fee without question and took an empty seat in the back.

Other artists filed in, but before the class could officially begin the desks began to rattle across the floor, hopping along like little nervous rabbits as they skittered across the tile. Elvis tensed, feeling her chest begin to construct as the noise of the rattling desks grew louder. Everyone looked about the room frantically for the source of the rumbling, and as the shaking strengthened it became apparent it was an earthquake, albeit one unlike anything anyone present had experienced. People in the room began to panic, talking in quick high pitched voices and Elvis slithered smoothly out of her chair and onto the floor, hooking her arm around the leg of her desk to keep it over her head as the clatter of falling supplies, the rattling of the metal desk legs, the rumbling of the earth and the chatter of the fellow students all swirled together, cluttering her mind. 

She drew her knees close.  
She covered her ears.  
She closed her eyes.  
She shut out the world.


	8. Bernadette

September 30th, 6:22 AM-

“Chiquitita.”

A gentle hand on her shoulder and the quiet voice gently coaxed the sleepy girl from her slumber. Short, dark hair sticking up in all directions, Bernadette sat up slowly in bed, rubbing her eyes sleepily until her vision focused on her father who stood smiling warmly at the side of her bed.

“Good morning chiquitita, how are you feeling today?” The girl scooted backwards inch by inch so she could lean against her headboard.

“Good morning Papa. I am feeling all right this morning, eight out of ten,” she reassured him with a small smile, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and rising slowly so the blood wouldn’t rush to her head. 

Waking up, just like everything else, was a delicate process. Smoothing out her floral night gown, she followed her father down the stairs for breakfast. Already downstairs, her elder sister Juji sat at the countertop sipping on a glass of water and holding a handful of baby carrots in her long, thin fingers.

“Good morning, Juji,” Bernadette greeted with a small smile, pulling up a seat beside her. Juji smiled in return, pushing the plate of baby carrots towards her sister.

“Good morning, Bernadette,” she replied quietly, their father beginning to prepare breakfast for the sisters. “Are you going to school today?” she questioned, her dark eyes drifting down to her glass as she spoke, gently swirling its contents as she rolled her wrist rhythmically. 

Bernadette pushed her black hair out of her face, nodding thoughtfully, “Yeah, I’m going to try today. Just a half day, though. I’ll come home for lunch, and then would you be able to drive me to my PT session today?” she inquired, biting her lip and smiling sheepishly at the older girl. Juji eyed her younger sister curiously, her full lips pursing as she cocked a brow at the request. The two held one another’s gaze for some time until the elder sister cracked a smile and popped a carrot into her mouth.

“Of course I’ll take you.”

Bernadette let out a long sigh of relief, positively beaming as her father served up a breakfast of whole wheat toast with peanut butter, and a small bowl of grapes. She nibbled amiably on her toast, Juji making sure to tease her for the amount of crumbs she left in her wake. It never took long for her to fill up, and with a couple grapes left in the bowl she pushed the remains away and slid off the bar stool to put her dishes in the sink before trotting back up the stairs. Today was going to be a good day, she could feel it in the warm excitement that flitted through her chest as she opened up her closet and searched for her school uniform. 

She nearly hopped both legs at once into her slacks, buttoned up her oxford with quick, nimble fingers and pulled on a cardigan over top, the uniform still a bit stiff with how little wear it had gotten since she had been sick. Truth be told, Bernadette was pretty much always sick in some regard, but this particular bought left her out of school for a few weeks, though it felt like years to her as she grew bored of the confines of her house. It wasn’t that ridiculous of a notion, a few weeks here and a few weeks there added up quickly, to the point where there wasn’t much chance of her to graduate along with most of the students her age. At this point in her life, graduation was the last thing on her mind.

As she hopped down the stairs with a chipper pep in her step, she found her father standing by the garage door waiting to chauffeur her to school. She scooped her bag up off the floor and held it tight to her chest, tightly enough that she could feel her heart pounding rhythmically against it.

“Don’t forget to text me when you need me to come and get you for therapy,” Juji called after her, the elder sister’s long lean frame draping itself across the open doorway as Bernadette and her father got into the car.

“I will!” she promised, waving goodbye as they pulled out onto the driveway. The road seemed to stretch out in front of them, taking longer than she remembered to get to the school. She spent the drive in eager anticipation, drumming her fingers on her school bag anxiously, still clutched against her chest.

“Don’t worry,” her father assured her with an encouraging smile. “You’ll be okay today. But make sure you let me know if you need anything, okay? If something does happen you let me know.”

Bernadette smiled hesitantly, her mind focused on the pattering of her heart against the bag as she leaned her head on the window.

“I promise, I will.”

September 30th, 7:30 AM-

As soon as Bernadette slid out of the car and waved goodbye to her father as he headed off for work, she became a different person. Here, she was that awful, sickly kid who had absolutely no idea how to properly socialize with anyone. Here, she was not herself. Here, she was—

“Hey, Bernardo!”

She turned, looking around for the unfamiliar voice calling for her. Her dark eyes fell upon a boy she recognized from her history class, his long locs a memorable feature that triggered her memory. Despite being certain she knew him, she couldn’t recall his name for the life of her.

“Oh, hey,” she replied sheepishly, offering a stiff wave of the hand in greeting. Richard? Devon? Chris? She followed him to class, deciding it might be best to sit by a familiar face, even if he had an unfamiliar name. She only had to make it through half a day, and if she just kept reminding herself of that then surely the day would go by smoothly.

“Did you get sick again?” the boy asked, much to Bernadette’s surprise. She didn’t expect anyone to remember she was sick, truth be told she always figured everyone just thought she was lazy and ditched. Then again, the teachers didn’t treat her like a ditcher, maybe that was the giveaway.

“Yeah, just some health complications,” she said simply, pretending to take furious notes on the powerpoint on the overhead before them.

“Aw, that’s rough. Glad you’re back though,” he said with refreshing earnest in his voice, flashing a sympathetic smile.

“Harvey!”

The teacher turned irritably towards the boy who in turn stiffened with embarrassment, their conversation immediately drawing to a halt. Bernadette’s face pinkened slightly, though she turned away from the boy and hid her face by resting her cheek on he the palm of her hand. Harvey, that’s right. She was touched he was glad to have her back, though she couldn’t even remember the two of them ever conversing much outside of obligated interactions during group projects or class discussions. But he had remembered her.

After the bell rang, Harvey stood as the black haired girl made her way for the door. His eyes were golden brown, and kind looking; every time she caught he glance he seemed to be looking at her expectantly, as though waiting for her to say something profound.

“So, what’s your next class?” she asked the boy, taking a few slow steps down the hall.

“I’m going to chemistry, you?”

“Oh, I’m going to Spanish,” she said meekly, knowing that the language classrooms were in the opposite direction of the science labs.

“Nice! Hey, are you gonna be around for lunch? You could sit with me and my buddies today, if you wanted,” he offered, sticking his hands in his pockets stiffly. Bernadette froze, eyes widening slightly at the offer. “Ah, uh, I’m only here for half the day, so I’m going home at lunch, sorry. I have another doctor’s appointment later on today, sorry,” she admitted, turning away slightly towards the hall that lead to her class without realizing she had apologized twice.

“Don’t sweat it! Good luck at the doctor, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he called as he turned and headed in the opposite direction. “Feel better!”

The smile that spread across her face was impossible to wipe away, and she trotted off to her next class positively beaming. The Spanish room had a warm air of familiarity as she opened the door and took her seat next to another familiar face whose name she’d surely never forget. Kelsey Jacobson was the only person in school Bernadette confided in, as the who had been friends ever since the Griggs family moved from Madrin to the sleepy town of Monroe. Kelsey was something like an angel, and was all kinds of pale from her grey eyes, nearly white blonde hair, and skin that didn’t look like it had seen the sun since she exited the womb.

“Hey, Bernie!” Kelsey grinned, “glad to have you back,” she said cheerfully, propping up her face in her hands, pushing up her full cheeks and smiling expectantly. “Are you going to tell me what you’re so giddy about today?” The girl wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Bernadette pouted slightly. She was incredibly easy to read, especially for Kelsey.

“It’s uh, just someone was being really sweet in history today,” she explained bashfully, scratching her head and looking away in embarrassment, spying Kelsey’s pale lips spreading into an even wider smile out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh? Whooo is iiiit?” she inquired, wiggling her nearly invisible brows some more and interlacing her fingers. Bernadette crossed her arms defensively and raised her shoulders up to her ears.

“…Do you know that guy, Harvey?”

Her companion nodded, fingers pulling apart so she could tap her chin thoughtfully. “Why yes, I think I do. He’s the new kid here, isn’t he? I’m pretty sure he just moved here at the beginning of the year,” she thought aloud, reaching out and grasping Bernadette’s dark, dainty hand in her own pale chubby fingers. “It sounds to me like this weekend you and I are going to have to have a sleepover and discuss this more thoroughly!”

September 30th, 12:50 PM-

As soon as lunch period rolled around, Bernadette fished out her old cell phone and texted her sister to let her know she was ready to go home, though she snuck into the food line discretely in order to grab a few cookies to eat while she waited. With her secret snack she headed out front of the school, finding a nice sunny spot to sit down and have her afternoon snack while she waited for her sister’s red jeep to pull up. Once the elder Griggs girl did arrive, Bernadette climbed into the passenger seat with a small smile.

“How has your day been?” she inquired, her cheerful demeanor from the morning carrying on into the afternoon. Juji shrugged, her full lips curling into a small smile.

“It hasn’t been too bad so far. And you?” Bernadette’s smile faltered. She couldn’t help but feel something was bothering Juji, and felt the urge to ask what was wrong. And yet, at the same time if her sister didn’t bring it up of her own volition, then she probably didn’t want to talk about it, so the girl dismissed the air of melancholy in the car and instead opted to tell her sister about Harvey.

“And then he asked me if I wanted to sit with him at lunch, but I told him I was going home. So that was pretty nice, but I didn’t do so well on my Spanish quiz I don’t think. I’ll probably as Kelsey to study with me next time to help me catch up.”

“There’s no reason you shouldn’t be an expert is Spanish by now. You don’t need to invite friends over, why don’t you just go ask dad to help you?” Juji asked, her little sister shrugging indifferently.

“I don’t know. I guess I can before the next big test,” she mumbled, dropping her head downward. Truth be told, she didn’t like asking him for help much. He was a busy man, and he had already done so much for her. Did she really deserve to continue asking him for help, especially on things as trivial as studying for a Spanish quiz?

The jeep’s rumbling engine quieted as the pair arrived back at the house, and Bernadette went straight up to her room to change into something a little more comfortable. Rummaging through her drawers she opted for a black t-shirt adorned with the faces of The Beatles, and an old, comfy pair of athletic shorts. Thundering back down the stairs she slid across the hard wood floors into the kitchen in her socks, ready for a proper lunch. Juji presented her with a bowl of strawberries as she herself slurped up a bowl of ramen. Bernadette pouted, sticking a piece of fruit in her mouth and pushing it over into her cheek with her tongue so she could speak.

“Can’t I have some of that too? Just this once?” Juji gave her a critical eye, shaking her head.

“You need to watch what you eat, hun. This stuff has tons of sodium, definitely not good for you, make a sandwich or something,” she suggested, taking her bowl out to the living room and flipping on the television. Bernadette let out a long, high pitched whine, but did as she was told and fixed herself a turkey sandwich, dropping a few strawberries on her plate as well before plopping down beside her sister with as much sass as she could muster, earning a vindictive look as the bowl of ramen churned with the shaking of the couch.

“Hey, don’t get mad at me,” Juji complained, elbowing her sister in the side. “It isn’t my fault, it’s for your own good.” Bernadette criss crossed her legs, placing the plate in the center of her lap as she nibbled on the bland sandwich. She attempted to direct all her malice towards the whole wheat crust, giving it her best stink eye, as though it were to blame.

“I know it’s not your fault. But it isn’t my fault either! I just want to be able to eat shitty food too,” she pouted.

Life could be so unfair.

September 30th, 3:30 PM-

Her father always insisted upon a period of rest during the day to ensure she didn’t overexert herself, but it could get incredibly boring. That was why Bernadette turned to the wonderful world of cinema. With her daily resting periods she became a film and pop culture aficionado, laying in bed with her trusty laptop and watching movies for hours, and blogging reviews with a focus on women in film. All of this was done under the name of Bernadette, of course. Even if she was too afraid to come out at school, no on questioned her online. Online, no one ever had to know. Today’s selection was another romantic comedy that failed to uphold any kind of actual romantic integrity that didn’t rely on a phoned in misunderstanding and a sudden change of heart. No surprises there.

Once the resting period was over, it was back in the car so Juji could take her to the facility where physical therapy was held. It mostly consisted of light cardio workouts, seeing how much her heart was able to take. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much. Not to mention it was monotonous and infuriating as hell. Needless to say, it was not Bernadette’s favorite part of the day, and she usually left feeling downtrodden and frustrated with herself.

Today was no different, and she sat outside sniffling quietly as she cried in frustration. It felt as though everywhere she turned there were insurmountable obstacles, like her body was simply not capable of any of the things she wanted it to do. She wasn’t able to exercise much without quickly becoming short-winded, she wasn’t capable of eating certain foods without fear of further heart problems or other complications, she wasn’t capable of handling anything stronger than hormone blockers, and she wasn’t capable of summoning the course to come out to her peers.

The thoughts swirled in an unstoppable riptide through her mind, enough that she began to feel lightheaded when she stood to walk it off. The feeling of utter defeat tugged on her heart as Bernadette walked down the sidewalk, rubbing her eyes to clear them of any forming tears. Pulling her hands away she spied the town’s new and supposedly innovative recreation center off to the left. She had never been there before, but why would she have? In her self conscious stupor she doubted there would be much there that she would be able to do, but some strange mix of curiosity and newfound determination, or perhaps stubbornness, drove her through the doors.

Navigating the giant complex, Bernadette spied a large window that overlooked the pool area below. Gazing down, it seemed the pool was relatively unpopulated, with only a few small children splashing around in the shallow end of the pool and a few older boys seeing how long they could hold their breath under water. She allowed herself a tiny smile. Swimming counted as light cardiovascular exercise, right? After a little searching she spied the family locker room, and located an empty locker to stow away her socks and shoes before heading out to the pool. Slowly shuffling towards the deep end, Bernadette placed one cautionary toe into the water to test the temperature. A sharp whistle blow startled her, and she jumped slightly, looking up at the lifeguard in his stand.

“You can’t wear that shirt in the pool,” he called out to her, a rich shade of red coloring her cheeks as Bernadette grew flustered. With a deep, steadying breath she approached the boy with a frown.  
“Is there something I can wear? I misplaced my swim top,” she requested meekly, wringing her hands with concern. The boy in the stand looked at her for a moment before climbing down off his tower and heading through a door marked ‘staff only’. Bernadette waited uncertainly by the poolside, surprised when the boy reappeared holding a lifeguard swim shirt, handing it over to the girl.

“Just make sure you give it back when you go.”

Positively beaming, Bernadette expressed her thanks graciously as she trotted back to the locker room to change shirts.

“And no running!”

When Bernadette approached the poolside for the second time, she sat down carefully on the edge and managed to dip both feet in the water, shivering slightly before she let herself slide over the edge and into the pool. Her attempts at swimming proved feeble at best, as she kept one hand on the wall most of the time to steady herself, and swam back and forth across the short side of the pool rather than lengthwise to help feel a little more accomplished. 

Starting in the shallower end may have been a good idea, and the thought crossed her mind more than once whenever her hand would slip from the wall and she sank slightly. But here she was alone, no one would let her push herself when they were watching, so this may have been her only chance to try. Slowly she could feel herself becoming worn out, and her pace slowed considerably. Hanging onto the wall with both hands to watch her breath, she could feel light tremors underneath her fingertips. Looking around no one else seemed to notice them yet, or they didn’t care, but as the shaking became stronger and the lifeguard’s stand began to shake a few concerned voices echoed through the pool, some simply confused and others panicked.

Bernadette found herself in the latter group, the pain in her chest and the sensation of her heartbeat speeding up didn’t help matters. She knew the sequence of events that followed all too well.

Quickly the girl became short of breath.  
Slowly her grip on the wall loosened.  
Quickly she lost consciousness.  
Slowly she sank.


End file.
